Bruise, Dredge, and Drain
by Rhanon Brodie
Summary: He was with Caroline for weeks, a useful bit of sex and blood – but some stories don't get told the way they're supposed to. Here's what they didn't show you on the CW. Prequel to 'The Perfection of Death'. Damroline, slight AU/OOC, M for a reason. ON INDEFINITE HIATUS
1. Chapter 1

Caroline Forbes stared back at the face in the mirror, not entirely sure she liked what she saw. On the outside it was obvious that she was Mystic Falls' sweetheart; blonde and blue eyed and long legged, with a sparkling laugh and enough intelligence to charm her way through most circles. She could be a bitch; what girl her age couldn't? But she didn't let it get to her too much because that was life in high school – keep your friends close and your enemies closer. But because she was the sweetheart, the all-American girl, the southern belle, all she got was _vanilla_. She _hated_ vanilla, had decided that ever since she'd found herself cornered in a dark hall at a frat party last spring, the older guy groping her roughly, telling her how sweet she was. She told him to shut up and just fucking _fuck_ her. So he did. He clamped his palm over her mouth and her eyes closed, her head fell back, and she welcomed the pounding hips, the grunt and sigh, and the slap on the ass as she left him to find a bathroom to clean up in. It didn't bother her, this kind of physical relationship, but the fact that she couldn't find it in her own backyard was a little off-putting.

There of course was Tyler, but it was _Tyler Lockwood_ and she just couldn't bring herself to think of him _that_ way – she'd known him since the sandbox. He might have the attitude; he was as cocky as most assholes come, but she was pretty certain that while he wasn't a virgin, he hadn't been with a lot of girls, despite what was heard in the locker rooms. He just didn't seem to have that way about him. And when Stefan Salvatore strolled onto the scene, she thought she might have a bit of a bad boy on her hands, the dark, broody type, but sure enough, he set his sights on Elena. Elena was definitely vanilla. So, good for her, then. Caroline didn't think Stefan was _that_ hot, anyway. She'd told Bonnie as much at the Grill. And when Bonnie had smiled and got up to pay the bill, any residual thoughts of Stefan Salvatore or how Elena managed to get him under her spell went right out the window.

Darkness, dressed in black leather and blue eyes, was staring back at her with a matching dark grin.

_He liked to ruin the pretty ones, so Elena Gilbert, the apple of his baby brother's eye, was definitely at the top of his list. But how to get her? And then his thoughts on Katherine's copy dissolved as peach pie with whip cream on top sat at the table across the bar. The blonde was stunning, and staring right at him. He tried his best dark smile and was rewarded with a gentle quirk of her lips. She might not be his goal, but she'd do in a pinch to waste some time. She looked breakable. She looked vulnerable. Oh, he'd have fun with this one, like he did with all the rest. He'd lit the match and set the blonde to simmer, so when she looked away for one second, he made his move, sliding out into shadows and the dark night, content to let her wonder if she'd seen him, or just imagined him. He'd find her again, easily enough._

_And there she was, not a week later, storming out of the Grill, dressed in what passed for a dress these days (although it looked short enough to be a t-shirt) that was light, soft yellow. She wore a worn jean jacket on top and little wedge heels that made her tanned legs go up and up under the sky-high hemline of the dress. He'd seen her there in the Grill, earlier, pouting when she didn't get her way, and he decided that he'd start there, start with the princess attitude and strip her down to bare bones and naked flesh so that when she was on her knees looking up at him, she'd be shaking, begging him to back down. _

_It wouldn't happen; Damon Salvatore _never_ backed down, but he was looking forward to the experience of being asked to do so. He moved out of her line of sight and watched her approach the silver Charger, a suboptimal remake of a classic. His own Charger was parked across the street, blue and vintage and rubbed daily whilst being told how special it was. Stefan once likened Damon's car to Damon's dick – the centre of Damon's little universe. Upon further reflection, it wasn't that far from the truth. The sound of keys hitting the pavement, followed by a sigh and an unladylike curse, brought his attention back to the blonde. He moved closer, watching as she ducked expertly to her hands and knees (and he filed that information for later) and dug under the car for her keys. With a flip of blonde hair, she stood straight and tall and Damon found he was a little taken aback – with her shoes, she was less than inch shorter than him which put her at about 5'10 without them. Longer legs meant more to wrap around his hips. He smirked and opened his mouth to speak when she turned around with a little gasp._

"Oh! It's…you," she stated slowly, with a hint of curiosity. "Hi."

He flicked his eyes to hers, smiling deep so that the dimples showed. "Hello," he purred back.

"I'm Caroline," she offered boldly, holding out her hand. "Caroline Forbes."

"Damon Salvatore," he replied, taking her hand up and holding it briefly.

"Oh my god – are you related to Stefan?"

He smirked with a shrug. "You might say that I am Stefan's slightly older, but much hotter, brother."

The thing she did with her eyebrow was almost identical to his move and it made him lean a little closer. "Really," she cooed with a flirty little grin.

And his grin was flirty, right back at her. "Really," he confirmed with a nod of his head. He glanced behind her at the Grill and then back to her, eyeing her closely. "You okay?" Her smile had faltered a bit and he went in with the sympathy card.

"Fine," she sighed brightly, tossing her pale hair off her shoulders and focusing her body towards his. _Let Elena have Stefan_, she thought as she eyed the long, lean lines of him, dressed up in black on black and looking like _all_ kinds of trouble. "No biggie," she summed up. "Are you…following me?" She flashed a flirty grin.

He practically batted his eyelashes at her and watched the sweet blood rush under the surface of her skin as it sailed to her throat, her cheeks, and her ears. "Maybe," he sang. "Can I take you for a drink somewhere?"

And she laughed. Outright laughed and shook her head. "Somewhere other than the Grill? Unless you know of some crazy, underground club in Mystic Falls, this is it, Salvatore." She gestured to the restaurant behind her.

He flashed a tight grin and looked deep into her eyes. "Let's go to your house," he said flatly.

"Let's go to my house!" Caroline offered with a coy smile. "My mom's working nights and I have a bottle of vodka in my desk," she added with a satisfied nod of her head.

"Perfect," Damon gushed dramatically. "I'll follow you."

_The girl could drink like a fish. They were more than halfway through the bottle, going straight up and shot for shot, and only now did she actually start to giggle. Her eyes had been glassy for the last hour and she'd talked him into playing strip blackjack because poker was, according to her, too hard. She was good at the game, too, or had been when she'd had her wits about her and had been counting cards. Now, not so much, and Damon watched from where he sat in only his jeans and one sock as Caroline stood to shimmy out of her underwear and fling it across her room._

"_No fair," she pouted. "You started out with more clothes."_

_Damon shrugged. "We're headed for the same goal here, Caroline," he reminded her, scooping up the cards and shuffling._

_She gasped, trying to sound scandalized, but it ended in a snort that sent her into a peal of giggles. Damon couldn't help but chuckle with her – he was feeling no pain and she was awfully cute. And maybe a little annoying, but he was sure he'd cure that with no problems. "Well, I know you didn't follow me home just to play cards and make small talk." Pulling her bottom lip up between her teeth, she wandered to where he sat in her desk chair and stood between his legs. Her fingers traced a line from his chest, over his shoulder, and finally up his neck to lace in the soft, dark hair at the base of his skull. Then she swung one long leg up and over his thigh and straddled him, sinking right down over him, bare skin against the denim fly._

"_Oh, ho," he mumbled, smoothing his palms up her thighs to catch her waist. His thumbs dug against her hip bones with a sharp twist and he waited to hear a sharp squeal. What he got instead was a low, breathy sigh._

"_Come on, Damon, I know you're here because you wanna fuck. I wanna fuck, too," she pouted softly, gently licking his bottom lip and rocking her hips into him._

The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. It was the truth, though, and it was all she had thought about since she'd first seen him a week ago at the Grill. She had known with that one look that this guy knew how to handle a girl in the sack and not be afraid to get a little…_creative_. The guys she'd made out with never really got beyond sweet kisses and breathy sighs – and this guy, this dark and obviously dangerous guy just looked like he knew what the fuck he was doing, and wasn't afraid to tell her how to do it.

She'd dreamt about it, over and over, fantasised about how he'd touch her, how he'd talk to her, what he might like. He had peeled off his shirt with a wicked gleam in his eye, smirking as it came up and over his head. Caroline couldn't help but gawk at his naked, toned torso and the angle of his hips. And then he had slunk into her chair, relaxing into it and his smirk grew as her fascination of him did – hard planes, soft, flawless skin, the trail of dark hair below his navel that was absolutely _teasing_ her.

As she sank onto his lap and curled her fingers through his hair, his grip on her thighs grew iron strong, and sure. His eyes turned heated, heavy, and he gazed up at her, tilting his lips up to hers. "Let's fuck," he breathed over her mouth. She kissed him, a bold move for her. The moan from his throat was primal, deep, and it made her hum right down to where she was pressed hot and damp against his jeans. She whimpered in reply, and arched into his searching hands.

She let him take off her dress, toss it aside, and then his palms swept up her naked torso to cup the sides of her breasts, his thumbs rolling over the hard peaks of her nipples and wrenching a tiny sob from her. When his tongue slid over hers before sealing their mouths in kiss, stars burst behind her eyelids and she cried out sharply, the sound coming back to her to make her blush. Heat flashed through her limbs and another surge of sweetness slid between her thighs as the stiff fly of his jeans rubbed against her clit. Suddenly she was jerking his belt, making short work of his pants and boxers, and pushing them down to his knees. As she landed back in his lap he wound an arm around her back and arched her forward. Lips and tongue attacked the soft swell of her breasts; his teeth pulled and tormented until her nipples were red, swollen, and shining wetly in the lamp light. At some point, she'd wiggled back onto his thighs so that his cock stood between their bellies. She grabbed him in her fist, stroking him firm and sure while looking at his mouth.

"Tell me you want my cock in your pussy," he murmured. His eyes slid shut as her thumb rolled over the slit at the top of his erection, dipping in to slide the moisture around.

She did him one better and swept her hips down, sliding the head of his shaft right past the tight opening of her pussy, clenching him there. A second later she was gone, leaving him wet and pulsing. "I want your cock in my pussy," she murmured, before kissing him wetly and sinking right down the length of him. The size of him made her break their kiss with a gasp and she heard him panting. He watched her with wide eyes, just as surprised by her move as she was. "Ohmygod," she sobbed, taking tiny little breaths as she backed off.

"More," Damon growled, gripping her hips and staying her as he rolled his hips up once.

Caroline swore she could feel him in her throat and her toes scrabbled on her bedroom carpet as her hands clutched his shoulders for leverage. She sucked in a breath, and gasped, "fuck!" before pulling against his hands so that just the first few inches of him were still inside. And there, she bounced, riding him along the most sensitive inches of her, swivelling her hips so that the wide head of his cock grazed against her front wall, right along that place she had found that made her see stars. "Ohmygod_Damon_!" she wailed before finding her clit with one hand and clutching the back of his neck with the other. A few quick strokes and she started to shake around him. "Shit, Damon, gonna cum, gonna cum, gonna…" Her words were cut off by his kiss, and he rolled his tongue against her slowly, sucking at her lips and biting gently and making her squirm all over his cock.

_"OhmyGOD!" Damon groaned, pulling his lips away and rolling his eyes against the sudden bolt of pleasure that stemmed from his balls and shot right out to his fingers and toes. Caroline Forbes was going off like a rocket in his lap after no more than two minutes of actual stimulation. He leaned back and watched as he became wetter and wetter with every shift of her hips. Her thighs trembled as she came down a fraction and then she was sighing, high pitched and wanton as she slowly let him back inside all the way. _

_She felt incredible, and from the way her eyes went slightly crossed, he guessed he felt the same way to her. The girl was on fire, scorching and soaking and squeezing. No girl that looked like her should know how to move like she just had, and Damon's interest was piqued. She had all but attacked him, sinking that first kiss onto him without hesitation and without compulsion. The predatory streak thrilled him to no end. He wondered what else she would do. When he focused on her he noticed her flushed cheeks and the brightness in her eyes._

_"Again," Damon grunted, sitting straighter and pulling her up against him. "I wanna __**fuck**__, Caroline," he smirked as his hands closed on her hips._

_Nodding frantically her face broke into a delirious grin. "Oh my god, __**yes**__, fucking fuck me, Damon," she breathed before leaning forward and balancing on her toes. Her muscles shifted and she steadied herself, her thighs strong around his, one hand clutching the back of the chair they were using. He felt her anchor in his lap and with his grip tight on her he tossed his hips up in a gentle buck, yanking Caroline back to meet him. Her breath sailed out in a little yelp as she landed with a jerk._

_As she landed, she squeezed, and Damon's eyes screwed shut at how tight she got. With a frantic nod, he encouraged her. "Oh, fuck __**yes**__," he groaned, eyes rolling back as he lifted her and she tightened once more along his shaft, fluttering her pussy up, only for him to catch her and haul her back down, working his cock up deeper as she landed. Tilting his hips forward slightly, he hooked his arms up and behind her shoulders so that his palms curled up and over towards him, controlling the upwards motion of her body and how hard he'd meet his pelvis. She was close enough to kiss now; he found he liked swallowing her gasps and sighs. His tongue caught hers in a wicked kiss, open and wet, as he gave a vicious buck with his hips and yanked her down._

_She sounded __**heavenly**__ as she screamed down his throat._

She tasted his blood in her mouth and a small, startling ache tingled in between her hips as the force of his thrust sailed through her. Her pulse stuttered at the coppery tang of him and then she felt the sharp snag of his teeth on her bottom lip. The taste of her blood overpowered his and he pulled his lips away, licking the blood away. "Tit for tat," he smirked. "You ready?"

He didn't wait for her answer. Instead, he set a heavy rhythm that left Caroline no other choice but to suck in a breath and let it ride. She steadily worked with and against Damon, twisting to how she liked it and he let her, his nostrils flaring every time he looked down to where they were joined. It was one of the hottest things Caroline had ever seen, but when Damon looked up at her suddenly, licking his lips, she convulsed around him.

"You look _sooo_ good so full of my cock, Caroline," Damon growled.

She _quivered, _and moaned deeply as he rocked deep inside of her. Her head arched back as he anchored his fist in her hair and tugged. It served to make her wail and clench her teeth at the sudden sting. His face hovered near hers as he wound his other arm around her and pulled her close so that her breasts were crushed against him. Their hips crashed together, hers rolling down and his digging up and the sheer mechanics of it was absolutely mind _blowing_. They just _fit_ and _worked_ each other perfectly.

He kissed her again, tongue swiping over her lips to trail down her throat where she felt his mouth become harder as he slipped a hand between them. He found her clit with his thumb and he rolled it up and down, sliding the wetness over the swollen flesh faster, and faster, and faster. The burn in her hips started again, the deep throbbing of it sailing up her spine. She was going to come again, and then she was, and hard, and deep, her back arching, pressing her neck up into Damon's mouth.

_He dug his teeth in and jerked her clit frantically, sending her spiralling into another violent orgasm. Her blood flooded his mouth and then suddenly, too fucking suddenly, he was coming, hard and snarling. Hell, he was surprised he had lasted __**this**__ long. He had almost blown his load when she had bit him, but he'd held out, happy he had got her to come for him again before he finished. _

And now she was so far gone, she didn't feel his teeth go in, and she didn't feel them come back out_._ She felt the bed beneath her and felt Damon's breath fanning her neck as he laid her down gently, The twist of his hips made her hiss and jerk against him, still shuddering and shaking from head to toe.

"Sensitive?" he murmured.

Caroline gave him a sleepy nod.

"_Good_."

Oh…oh, no, it didn't sound _good_ at all. As his half hard length pulled back out from her she stilled and sucked in a breath. Seconds later, it rushed out in a scream as his head ducked between her thighs. Her hand came up, crashed into the side of his head and then her fingers wound in his hair, pulling him and pushing him and swivelling her hips against his searching tongue. He _devoured_ her, his mouth closing over her clit and sucking without mercy, rubbing his tongue over her again and again as he sank two fingers into her aching pussy. Again she hissed and again she bucked and her nails scored his scalp and dug into the hard skin and muscle of his shoulders.

The sharp pinch of her nails caused him to snarl against her, and he picked his head up, glaring up at her and…and_ changing_. She froze and stared down at Damon as the panic rose in her throat.

* * *

TBC!


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: Here we go again! It keeps going - these two just keep waking me up, disturbing me during sales meetings, and taking up my lunch hour! Thanks to those who've stopped by, and to those that have reviewed. Un beta'd, I own nothing._

* * *

…She didn't feel his teeth go in, and she didn't feel them come back out_._ She felt the bed beneath her and felt Damon's breath fanning her neck as he laid her down gently, The twist of his hips made her hiss and jerk against him, still shuddering and shaking from head to toe.

"Sensitive?" he murmured.

Caroline gave him a sleepy nod.

"_Good_."

* * *

Oh…oh, no, it didn't sound _good_ at all. As his half hard length pulled back out from her she stilled and sucked in a breath. Seconds later, it rushed out in a scream as his head ducked between her thighs. Her hand came up, crashed into the side of his head and then her fingers wound in his hair, pulling him and pushing him and swivelling her hips against his searching tongue. He _devoured_ her, his mouth closing over her clit and sucking without mercy, rubbing his tongue over her again and again as he sank two fingers into her aching pussy. Again she hissed and again she bucked and her nails scored his scalp and dug into the hard skin and muscle of his shoulders.

His mouth came away from her wetly and he panted with a dark grin. Curling the tip of his tongue around one canine he winked and slowly his head descended. She couldn't have looked away if she had wanted to, and then he _changed_. Right before her eyes, his face went _dark_ and his eyes were practically _burning_. The breathy sigh she had prepared for him came out a helpless whimper and she jerked away from him. His hands were fast – _too_ fast, and strong and heavy and her hips sank to the bed. He shushed her, soothed her keening whine with gentle kisses on her thighs.

"Damon," she gasped desperately.

"Shhh," he murmured. "It's okay. It will be good, I promise," he added in a heated whisper before moving his lips back to the wettest part of her. He gave a lusty groan and slid his tongue back inside, his thumb rolling over her clit again.

This time, her body arched violently, and her hips crashed up into Damon's face. She felt the clean slice through her delicate flesh and then he _howled_, and closed his lips over the blood she _knew_ was there. He slipped his fingers inside of her once more and stroked deep and sure. "Come for me," he gasped against her.

_He wanted her to come again, with the blood and the bite there on her flesh. Then he would take his._

Caroline slammed her eyes shut, biting into her bottom lip as she exploded with a hoarse cry on her lips. It was too much, it was so strange and so good and she wanted more.

_She came against his mouth, a sweet slick mess of honey and wine and the burst of blood in between. She was __**magnificent**__, and she was his, for that moment, for however long he wanted. Her hips became pliant once more, rolling gently, and he crawled back up her body, licking her lips and mapping her body with his gaze. His fingers trailed gently, and he catalogued every spot that made her squirm and sigh, while his other hand still worked her pussy, gently rolling her clit around with his fingertips._

_Her back arched and he watched, amused as her body rolled up into his hand once more, tuned to his touch. A swell of gooseflesh rose up on her belly and thighs, and he gazed up, heaving a groan as her nipples tightened and turned dark with blood. A second later he was sucking her, pulling one nipple up into his lips and rasping gently with his tongue, his fingers pinching and pulling the other. The girl was __**delicious**__, plump and juicy, sweet, tangy, salt and copper, and dark, and syrupy. It clouded him, her taste and her smell, and the bloodlust rolled through him, into his veins and his teeth. His fangs erupted, and he pounced, rearing up and pushing between her thighs without a warning. He worked himself inside, inch by hot, tight inch, and clutched her ass as he bent over her with a leering grin. "I am going to fuck the shit out you, you know that?" He hummed and rolled his hips experimentally. His eyes brightened at the way she moaned._

It was like he was right in her _mind_, and she could only nod frantically at his words, and curl her fingers into the sheets beneath her as he set up a bruising pace. It wasn't fast, but it was hard, and it was _deep_. It bordered on painful but every time her breath sailed out and the pleasure swept over her, it was worth it and she bounced her hips with his. Her eyes flew open, suddenly needing to see him, to watch as he came apart with her surrounding him.

His darkness stared back, hot and black and burning red in his eyes. Then he lunged, and his hips plunged deep, sinking up into the tight heat of her pussy as he caught her throat in his jaws. With a growl he bit deep and sharp, and her voice sailed out of her, harsh and howling as her hands clawed at his back. Her fists slammed down over his muscles, her hips bucked, she pulled his hair and then his ears and he roared back with a snarl and glinting blue eyes.

A sense of dreadfully real fear rolled through her, watching him lick his teeth of her blood. Her neck ached, but it was barely noticeable to the throbbing ache between her thighs. Her fear vanished, replaced with a terrible urgency to feel him again. "More," she whispered, softly at first, her chest heaving with breath.

The sound of Damon's chuckle made her raise her head and she stared at him, her bottom lip pouting. "I want _more_," she growled, clutching the dark silky hair at the nape of his neck. So she'd loose blood. She wasn't _that_ surprised by this suddenly revelation of Damon's true nature. She'd snooped; she knew a little bit about the council. Her mother was a part of it, after all. Of course, the tidbits of information that referred to vampires and other nasties had seemed odd, but now it all made sense – as much sense as anything else in Mystic Falls.

* * *

Caroline Forbes stared back at the face in the mirror, not entirely sure she liked what she saw. She was hiding something, something that had surfaced last night, in the cover of dark and vodka. Behind her, Damon Salvatore sprawled across her bed, his dark hair fluffed up on one side of his head, his delectable mouth turned up into a dastardly grin. She focused once more on herself. There – right _there_ in the dark blue depths of her eyes (indigo, her father's boyfriend had summed up nicely) something sparked and snapped and made her crane her head to one side. The ache in her neck was apparent and made that much more real with the tell-tale crescent marks of Salvatore's bite. _Vampire_ her mind whispered, and that part that hid _from_ the shadows curled into itself and tried to tuck away from the realization.

The part that searched for it, for darkness and a bit of depravity, however, unfurled its wings like some great black raven and swept in, dove for her, plucked out the doubt like the eyes of its prey and then fed on any lingering hesitation. She glanced back to the reflection of the bed and gasped, finding it empty. Instantly she turned and there stood Damon, naked, semi-erect, and staring at her intently.

"Good morning," he quipped with a jagged grin.

"Is it?" she croaked. She pressed back against her chest of drawers and her fingers clawed at the edge, trying to put something tangible between them. Maybe last night had been a little intense. Maybe last night had gone a little too far. Maybe…

_Damon shrugged and stretched in response. "Mmm…it will be if you come back to bed," he said pointedly, his eyes searching hers. He didn't really want to have to compel her; willing bed partners and donors were always so much better. And this slip of blonde and blue was not only willing, but very, very eager. Behind her eyes was a familiar flare, was something he thought he'd lost long ago – the last time he'd looked in a mirror as a human, he'd seen the same things: insolence, stubbornness, and the need to find something to complete the puzzle. He let his gaze wander down, pausing at the already fading mark on her neck, and then lower, to the parts that were covered in lavender and lace, and he inhaled deep, taking in the scent of her, shampoo and all._

_He fixed her with a contemplative look. "I don't think you want to go to school today," he said carefully, watching for her pupils to spin wide and take his suggestion._

_"I've got cheer practice after school," she replied casually, smiling briefly before moving past him to her closet. There she plucked out the red, white, and black uniform and laid it on her bed before turning back to Damon. "You can meet me after," she suggested._

_He scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Oh, I __**can**_**, **_can I?" he snapped. Then he shook his head and moved to her, faster than she could blink, and he caught her shoulders before sliding her palms up and catching her neck, then her face, in his grasp. "Caroline," he said slowly. "You __**don't**__ want to go to school today."_

_Her smile faltered. "I've got a quiz in history," she admitted slowly._

_So stubborn! With a rueful shake of his head he pressed his thumb against her bottom lip, licking his own in the process. "I'll write you a note," he quipped before leaning in and kissing her soundly. "I'm not finished with you yet."_

_There, now – she smiled softly and tilted her head. Shrugging, she stepped back and perched on the edge of her bed. "You want me to play hooky? Okay. What exactly did you have in mind today?" Her fingers toyed with the threads on her comforter as she stared up at Damon through thick lashes._

_Slowly, a smirk formed on his lips, and he narrowed his eyes at her and gave her a look. "First things first," he murmured, his gaze slipping down her body and back up. "Shower."_

Caroline stood in the middle of her room with a towel wrapped around her body and another around her hair. It was sort of funny watching Damon dig through her closet, searching for something that was 'appropriate' for her to wear. He didn't really care for any of her sweater sets, pushing them aside and rolling his eyes at the soft pastel colors. He slung more clothes aside and dug deeper into her wardrobe.

"What about red? Or black? Something that counters this Little Miss Sunshine act, hmm?" Damon threw Caroline a wry grin. "We all know how well _that_ is working out for you."

"It's not an act," she lied, flashing him a tight smile.

Damon studied her for a moment. "Right. I'm sorry, I forgot that good girls scream bloody murder while getting fucked four ways from Sunday by a complete stranger."

That made Caroline roll her eyes. "When you put it that way, you make it sound so sordid," she answered wryly. Then she sighed and stepped forward, pushing against Damon's shoulder and moving him aside. "Let me look – I know this closet like the back of my hand."

A few moments later, she had an armload of Damon-approved attire and she flung it to the bed before turning back for underwear. Not so surprisingly, Damon had beat her to it and was currently rifling through the drawers built into her closet.

"Here," he said with another little smirk, holding up scraps of dark blue lace with his fingertips.

Caroline narrowed her eyes but snatched the bra and panties from his grasp. "Kinda fancy, don't you think? Where exactly are you taking me, anyway?"

Damon shrugged and then settled onto the bed, folding his arms behind his head and watching as Caroline got dressed. "No where far. My house. Can't have you making a bunch of noise with your mother around, can I? She's due home before noon and like I said…I'm not finished with you yet."

Tossing the towel from her body aside, she stepped into her panties and slid them up to slim hips before shifting her bra into place. With another tug, she pulled the towel from her head and turned to pout at her mirror. Right then, her stomach growled audibly and she giggled, tossing Damon a glance. "I'm starving," she explained, turning back to the mirror. And, just like earlier that morning, the reflection of her bed was empty, where it had been filled with Damon only seconds before, and behind her the air stirred and sparked with electricity. Sure enough, when she turned, there was Damon, half dressed in his jeans.

"Hurry up and get dressed," he shrugged passively, curling his fingers into damp tendrils of her hair. He kissed her quick on the mouth before heading for the door. "We leave in ten minutes."

Caroline pointed to her hair. "Uh, I can't go without drying my hair."

Damon rolled his eyes. "I guarantee that by the end of the day, you'll have perfect bed head." He shut the door behind him, leaving Caroline alone in her bedroom.

_That_ was the only thing she hated about take charge kind of guys. Sometimes they tried to take charge of _everything_. She stuck her tongue out the door Damon had just closed, and then spun to her makeup and blow dryer and inspected herself in the mirror. Her hair wasn't _that_ bad – she usually straightened it, anyway. The natural wave had taken over and she didn't dare touch it for fear of it frizzing. Instead, she finished getting dressed and putting the bare minimum on her face – lip gloss and mascara – and then grabbed her purse.

Damon was waiting for her in that delicious ride. Oh, his car was so fucking _awesome_ and she loved the fact that she got to ride around in it with _him_. She didn't miss the wandering flick of his eyes as she slid into the passenger seat and tossed a small bag in the back.

"That better not be an overnight bag," Damon mused tightly, pulling away from the curb.

Caroline snorted and glanced sideways at him before turning back to the window and rolling it down. "You wish," she snapped. "It's my stuff for practice. I told you, I have cheer practice this afternoon."

"You still think you're going to that," Damon replied. It wasn't a question, more of a statement laced in disbelief.

Grinning at her reflection in the side mirror, she then straightened and perched on her seat, turning towards Damon. "Yes, I do. And it starts at four so I'd better not be late."

"Stubborn _and_ bossy. Great combination."

Caroline picked up on his attempt to be snide, but she saw through it. Instead, she watched as his gaze shifted to her and lingered there before shooting back to the windshield.

"You'd make a great vampire."

She wouldn't have been more shocked had he slapped her. For a moment she gaped, blinking at the strange words he'd just blurted out. "What?" she snapped, coming out of her daze.

Damon blinked slowly and shook his head. "Nothing. Forget it." He shot her a stony look. "Will you sit back and put on your seatbelt? You're the sheriff's daughter, aren't you supposed to be a law abiding citizen?"

She snorted, knowing damn well she'd caught him off guard, something that he wasn't used to. She filed away that little outburst and grinning to herself, she sat back in the seat and watched the familiar streets stream by.

* * *

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: Totally random shout out to…sparxx27 because they by far have the smexiest picture of Damon as an avatar. And apparently they get off on Damon and Caroline torturing me. It's okay, I like it too...much information! Okay, on with the show._

_If you've read __**The Perfection of Death**__, which is the first of this series, you may recognize a reference to the story in this chapter…and the first person who finds it and pm's or reviews (with the answer, of course) gets to pick the next place Damon and Caroline hook up. I've never actually done a reader challenge before, I'm so excited! So review or PM me and I'll let the winner know by PM! Is this shameless pimping of my other work? Of course, I'm a starving writer, and I ain't making any money doing this, either. Reviews are my bread and butter – which, by the way, is an AWESOME song by Hugo, so if you're creeping round iTunes or something similar, give it a go._

* * *

"Wow," Caroline exclaimed as she swept into the Salvatore boarding house.

"_Extreme_ wow," Damon smirked, closing the door behind them. He moved through the foyer, dumping his keys and his coat where he pleased, and then shuffled down into the sunken parlour. From there, he headed straight to the wet bar and fixed himself a glass of bourbon.

"You know, I've read a lot of history on this place – my mom's on the Founder's council – but I've never actually seen anything before." Her blue eyes widened as she looked up at the vaulted ceilings and lead cased windows sparkling with late afternoon sun. The décor was turn of the century and borderline kitsch, with dark wood and glass shade lamps, but it worked and seemed to channel the old world charm that Damon and Stefan Salvatore just oozed. She did a little twirl, her hair fanning out as she did so. "This is amazing. And you own this?"

Damon chuckled into his glass and then took a sip. "Not exactly," he murmured after swallowing. "It's mine and Stefan's."

Caroline wrinkled her nose. "It must suck to have siblings. I'm an only child."

He studied her for a moment and then had to laugh in a most agreeable manner. "Caroline, you have not idea how much it 'sucks' to have siblings." He narrowed his icy blue gaze appreciatively. "I don't like sharing."

With a saucy smirk and even saucier saunter, Caroline made her way to Damon and plucked the glass of bourbon from his fingers. Never breaking her gaze from his, she lifted the glass and took a large guilp, humming at the surprising sweetness found there. "Neither do I," she confirmed after she'd swallowed.

"I'll bet," Damon muttered, snatching his glass back with a frown. It was more than half empty now. "Can I pour you a drink?" he asked smartly, already turning to the bar and filling a glass with ice.

"Definitely," Caroline purred, moving out of the parlour and into the adjoining study. She whistled lowly at the shelves packed with books and ran her fingers over the worn spines embossed with gold titles. "Have your read all of these?" she asked, taking in classic and contemporary titles.

"Most of them," Damon called. "And more than once."

She stopped her fingers on a familiar title and turned, looking at Damon from across the room. "I haven't seen this on any other bookshelves other than my grandmother's – and her copy got lost in a fire about ten years ago."

She watched the dark vampire cock his head and squint, and then shrug and return to pouring her drink. "'Blood in the Parlour'* – not too many people have heard of that one." He raised her glass as if to beckon her and she went to him, taking it from his hand and sipping slowly while watching him.

"Well, I have," she answered haughtily. "Can I borrow it?"

He gave her another inquisitive look. "You don't strike me as the reading type."

She gave a little laugh and a toss of her blonde hair. "Why? Because I'm _blonde_? Or because I'm a blonde _cheerleader_?" With a cheeky smirk she slipped across to the study again and plucked the well worn tome from the shelves. "I promise it will be handled with care."

The air around her stirred and he was there, right there beside her, lifting her glass from her fingers and staring down into her eyes. "Enough with the books. You're playing hooky," he reminded her with a gentle wag of his finger. Still, he let her slip the book into her bag before he slid said bag from her shoulder and dropped it to the floor. That look was back in his eyes, the one that heated the blood in her limbs and made her belly tingle.

"So what did you have in mind?" she said, trying to steady her voice and keep the breathiness at bay.

She sucked in a breath when his fingertips traced the collar of her shirt and slipped along the smooth skin of her throat. "You look a little pale," Damon murmured as his gently sinister smile graced his lips.

Caroline returned with her own smile. "Can't imagine why," she murmured gently. Her dark blue eyes narrowed and swept down from Damon's gaze, over his full lips, and then wandered over his hard, long and lean physique. Her breathing was coming in short little bursts and her mind was racing. When was the last time she ate? Had she just downed alcohol on an empty stomach? Suddenly, her world tipped ever so slightly and she leaned gently into the bookshelf. "Oh," she said quite softly, reaching out to grip his bicep. Her eyes widened at the hard muscle there, but then fluttered at the sudden light headed feeling that washed over her.

"_Shit," Damon muttered under his breath as he swooped to catch Caroline before she hit the floor. The loss of blood had finally wiped her out – and the alcohol hadn't helped. Well, at least he didn't have to small talk and flirt her up to his room. It was fun, for the most part, but right now Damon wanted one thing, and one thing only – more of her blood. His blue eyes danced down the front of her shirt and took in the small handfuls of her breasts. More of her blood, and definitely more of her body. But before anything else, he had to get her up to performance shape. Snatching up his glass in one hand and Caroline in the other, Damon shot up stairs, pausing only to snag the bottle of bourbon on the way._

_He barrelled them through the door and tumbled Caroline gently to the bed. "You know," Damon grumbled out loud, and she groaned in response, "I normally wouldn't go to these lengths to take care of a girl in your situation." He titled his head to get a better angle at her throat. He brushed his lips against the soft skin there and felt the faint flutter of her pulse, and smelled the sweetness of her. That was it – that was why he couldn't get enough of her. The smell of her was intoxicating, a mix of pears and honey. And the feel of her – every brush of soft skin, every clench and quake of muscle, was enough to send a shock of pain to his upper jaw and remind him of her blood and her heat and the very __**core**__ of her._

_Ah, but first things first. He rose up over her and smiled, humming as his fingers trailed over her hipbones to the hem of her blouse. "Now, I know you want to fool around a little more," he said conversationally, "but __**I**__ think it would be __**swell**__ if I gave you a bit of blood to put some color in your cheeks." He gave Caroline a wink. "How does that sound?"_

_Caroline's eyes slowly focused on him. With a silly grin, she sighed and shook her head slowly on his pillow. "Nuh-uh," she pouted. "Don't wanna be a vampire," she whispered._

"_Well, how about if I promise I won't turn you into a vampire?" he smoothly suggested, removing her top in one swift tug. His hand gently clasped at her throat and he watched her eyes darken. Testing her, he squeezed – just a fraction – and was rewarded with a breathless little whimper that went straight to his cock. _

"_Okay," Caroline sighed dreamily. "Wait," she suddenly frowned, trying to sit up to no avail._

"_What?" Damon snapped, pushing her back to the bed. _

"_Is this gonna taste gross? Cuz I might throw up, I'm not gonna lie. I feel like fucking shit."_

"_Trust me," Damon grinned evilly, bending so that his lips hovered over hers. The hand that was holding her down snagged her wrists and pinned them up and over her head. Stretched beneath him, Caroline's body arched up and a tiny sigh passed her lips as her eyes grew dreamy again. The lace of her bra scratched against his bare chest in a most delightful manner as her breasts pressed up against him. Their hips were locked together like magnets. Damon breathed her in, tasted her, and sucked her bottom lip gently between his teeth. Another second later he sealed his lips to hers, kissing her fully and soundly. The sweet and salt of her mouth warmed him and made his blood begin to fly through his veins. He wanted her. All of her. His fangs erupted, slicing out of his gums so quickly that they sank into his tongue as he pulled back to lick at her mouth._

His blood. Oh, she tasted his blood again, warm and sweet and thrilling to no end. His blood made it all better, and that much better, and was like butter on her tongue. She began to swallow, and as she did so she felt her own blood begin to simmer softly. With a growl she hitched her legs up and over his hips, and then tore at his bleeding tongue with her own teeth, making him snarl and howl and bite her right back. Tearing her mouth away, she snagged the tender flesh on his teeth and bled freely into his mouth.

_He began to __**shake**__. Gasping, his hips drove into hers, grinding his suddenly painful arousal against her thigh. A lusty moan rolled out of his lungs next and his breath hitched at the end. He dove in and revelled in the feel of her blood in his, her taste in his. And then it hit him and hit him __**hard**__: He had created a blood bond – in matter of __**seconds**__ the girl had him thinking only with his dick and wrapping himself into this little arrangement – something few had been lucky enough to do. Maybe she…_

_**No**__. He had to stop, otherwise she might not make it to fucking cheer practice. _

_Since when did he give a __**fuck**__ about cheer practice?_

_She would make a magnificent vampire._

_She should have more of his blood. Now. She should drink it, savour it, demand it and welcome it, let it slowly pour into her mouth and down the throat that screamed so prettily for him only hours earlier._

_His blood. In her. __**NOW**__._

_As his thoughts careened through his brain and crashed into each other until they were nothing more than a jumble of words and phrases about blood and want and take and have and his and hers and ours, he broke the kiss, smirked at her whine of protest, and leaned up enough to slice into a vein in his neck. Caroline __**attacked**__ him, and her silky tongue worked his blood past her lips and into her mouth. She sucked, hard and fast and then soothed the flesh with her lips. He felt her blunt teeth worry the cut again with a tiny growl and he swallowed thickly, closing his eyes and rolling his head back over his shoulders. She was a fucking __**natural**__ at this._

The taste and fell of his blood in her mouth should have made her sick to her stomach. It startled her to think that she actually might _crave_ this part of him, just as much as his body, his voice, the smell of his skin and the touch of his hands. He was a fucking _vampire_ – the very thing her mother led a crusade against with other members of a secret Mystic Falls society. So maybe that was what was driving this irrational behaviour.

Seconds after her first mouthful, however, she thought differently. She felt…_supreme_, for lack of a better word to express the weightless feeling in her veins that clung to her every fibre. It was more than supreme, though, it was otherworldly and exhilarating and she felt like she could take on anything and anyone – whatever life threw, Caroline Forbes could handle it. She wanted it all, had always been greedy, and the sweet licorice taste of Damon's blood brought her back to her, on his bed, trapped beneath him as he gave up such a vital part of his life. She wasn't stupid; she'd read her classics and tripped through the lore and folktales because that was what was on her grandmother's shelves. Smiling against his throat, she was _triumphant_. Damon had created a blood bond with her, regardless of any reservation he or she may have felt about it, and it stuck in her mind like his comment from earlier before: that she would make a great vampire.

A moan trembled in Damon's throat, low and lusty and when her hands were free she twined her fingers into his dark hair and held him close to her mouth. _Hers_, her mind decided, deep in that dark part that desired Damon.

Delicious.

* * *

TBC

_* 'Blood in the Parlour' is an actual book, written in 1964 by Dorothy Dunbar. It is a collection of murder mysteries set in the 19__th__ century, a time when murder was more elegantly executed than with a mere revolver. If you can get your hands on a copy, let me know! I've never read it, but it sounds like something random that Damon would have on his bookshelf._

_This may be the last update before the holidays as I'm going to my parents' house for a week. Plenty of time to find that reference to 'The Perfection of Death' and think about where you want Damon and Caroline to hook up next._

_Happy Holidays!_


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: Sorry this took so long. Work came at me like a freight train when I got back from vacation and it hasn't let up since! Thanks for your patience! I am pleased to announce that Leight Alexander has won the reader's challenge, has made her choice, and as we speak, I'm following her recipe and cooking up a nice smouldering dish to savour some more Damroline citrusy goodness. You'll just have to wait for it to bake until golden and warm and juicy sweet! Until then, enjoy this next installment. A little bit of filler, but I like some of the dialogue in here so I left it as is._

* * *

"Damon," she panted when she pulled away. Above her, he sighed and groaned, rolling his hips forward and staring down at her as he did so. He huffed out a frustrated breath and his blue eyes glittered. She was delirious with pleasure and she writhed against him, needing to feel him, all of him. "Please," she gasped, finally pulling at his hips and dragging him down against her.

The sob that came next was borderline shameless but she didn't care. The feeling was insistent; it wasn't likely to go away: she _ached_ for him in every way she could imagine. As she stared up at him his cocky smile grew as he twisted his hips in her hands and plunged deep with a firm stroke. A little breath choked out of her and her hands slipped up to his shoulders as she arched her hips up and pulled her knees back. It sent him deeper, and in the last breath he pushed _up_, and rolled the head of his shaft along her front wall, scraping over that spot and Caroline saw stars and cried out as she came instantly.

_It startled her as much as it startled him and the sheer look of wonder and excitement on her face made him whine with pleasure as her pussy clenched him, held him so snug and deep that she quaked and then came all over him, sending his blood into a frenzy. _

_And then his phone rang. He paused with a frown and chuckled at Caroline pouting up at him. With a swift kiss to her nose he withdrew and grinned as she bit her lip. Almost immediately her hands sailed between her legs, desperate for another release. He reached out and slapped her hand away. "Behave," he snapped, the heat of the darkness surging through his veins. For a moment he wasn't sure she'd read the deeper meaning, the one that said she wasn't going to get off again today unless he was the one doing it. Her eyes suddenly narrowed and she snorted as his meaning before rolling her eyes with a surrendering sigh. His chuckle was devilish and then he went for his phone, greeting his baby brother._

"_And to what do I owe the pleasure?" he purred, watching Caroline with one eye and picking up his watch with the other._

"_One of Elena's friends is missing."_

"_Not bad, I've had a fairly productive afternoon. How was your day?" Damon said glibly. He turned and glanced out the half closed blinds. Caroline suddenly gasped behind him and he glanced back over his shoulder to find Caroline perched back on the edge of his bed, her knees pulled up and her blonde head thrown back as her fingers gently rubbed and teased her swollen clit. A new trickle of moisture slipped out and down over her skin and he stared, not even registering what Stefan was yammering about._

_She whined and the sound was sharp enough to snap him back into reality. "What?" he barked suddenly into the phone as he snapped his fingers and pointed at Caroline in warning. "Stop it," he hissed with a glare._

_Caroline groaned and flopped back onto her elbows, lifting one hand to flip Damon the finger. She smiled sweetly as she did so. "Fuck you," she uttered._

"_I am so going to find a way to shut you up," Damon muttered, giving Caroline his best threatening glare._

"_What are you doing?" Stefan asked hesitantly._

"_I'm…"_

"_Wait, you know what? I don't want to know. I called because one of Elena's friends is missing."_

_Damon smirked at the worried tone in his brother's voice and wandered over to the desk, finding the bourbon and glass he had set there hours earlier. "And you think I know where she is?"_

"_It's as good a place to start as any. And before you ask, no, she wasn't at home. Her name's Caroline Forbes."_

"_Hmm. Remind me again, which one is she?"_

_Stefan heaved a sigh. "The blonde one. About five ten, blue eyes?"_

"_Ahh, the leggy blonde that's taller than you?" He sauntered to the bed and smirked down at Caroline who was watching with a curious smile. He held the phone in one hand and walked the fingers of his free hand down the side of her body, dipping at her hips and stroking down over the tops of her thighs. The tips of his fingers grazed the damp curls there. Very gently, he sank the tip of his finger just inside her soft warmth and grazed the tip of her very swollen clit._

A sharp stab of pleasure rolled up her belly and to her limbs as he stared at her hotly. He moved his finger just a little faster, still just glancing along her clit as he did so. As he did, he continued his conversation with Stefan. "Isn't she the cheerleader? There is a game coming up – the big one, the homecoming. She's probably got extra practice or something school spirit related. I'm she'll show up." And then he clicked his phone shut and smiled widely as he continued to tease her.

"It's three-fifty," he said, slipping another finger just inside of her folds. The words were supposed to make sense, she knew that 'three-fifty' meant something, but Damon suddenly stretched out on his side, facing her, his fingertips now gently sliding on either side of her clit, trapping it, squeezing gently and rolling back and forth.

"Yes," she uttered, her voice warbling. Tears gathered in her eyes as he ignited her pleasure once more. She wasn't sure it was possible to get off this much in such a short time frame, but she didn't really care, especially when she watched helplessly as his dark head descended and perfect lips suckled one nipple wetly, flickering his tongue back and forth. The pressure on her clit increased, the friction doubled, and just when she was about to snap he was gone.

Gone. Her guts plummeted and she sucked in breath and wailed out an indignant cry.

"Don't want you to be late for practice."

She blinked bleary blue eyes up at him and slammed her fist down into the mattress. "What the fuck?" she gasped sharply. "I can't believe you just…did…" she trailed off as his former words sank in.

Three-fifty. Ten to four. Shit! Cheer practice!

_

* * *

_

Now that he thought about it, cheer practice wasn't a

_**total**__ waste. After all, it meant that Blondie had to wear that tiny little flip skirt, the pleated one that was black and red and barely came past the red Lycra panties underneath. The sleeveless black top drew his eyes to her long arms and the v neck brought his gaze from the road to her throat, and the two small, but noticeable, puncture wounds there. He frowned and flicked his eyes to her bag in the back seat. "Got a scarf in there?" he muttered, slowing at a stop sign. He really should have bit her somewhere a little less conspicuous._

"_I'm not cold," Caroline laughed, tossing her blonde curls over her shoulder and tipping her face to the open window._

"_That's all very fine, but I was thinking more of the really gross hickey you're sporting." Watching her suddenly snap upright and yank the vanity mirror down made him choke on a chuckle and he schooled his features._

"_Oh my __**god**__, Damon!" Her screech pierced the interior of the car and then her fingers went to work poking and prodding the damaged skin. She hissed only seconds later. "Fuck, this is seriously __**bad**__." Her eyes scanned the street they were on, a main drag that took them through the middle of town towards the school. "Stop!"_

_Damon's foot collided with the breaks and he glared at her as if she'd grown another head. "What?" he groused. "You're the one that didn't want to be late…"_

"_I'd rather be late than show up looking like __**lunch**__," she sneered. She gave a nod to a small boutique up the block. "Pull over here."_

_He did as she asked, frowning at her tone and the way he reacted. __**This**__ was most definitely not supposed to go this way. He was the vampire and Caroline was the donor. That was it. Wasn't it? Detached now, he watched himself get out of the car and follow Caroline's long stride as she made a beeline for the store while her fingers combed her curls out in an attempt to hide the evidence of his indulgent nature._

_The bell on the door rang out obnoxiously and Damon winced at the shrill greeting that followed. "Hi Caroline, dear! Oh, I'm so glad you came in today – I've got some fabulous new silver for you to try on…"_

_Damon pushed forward, tucking Caroline to one side as he glanced at the saleslady's nametag. "Hi…Evelyn. I'm sure you and Blondie here have __**so**__ much to catch up on. Unfortunately, she's late for cheer practice. My girl needs a scarf. Got anything in black?"_

_Evelyn gulped back any reprimand to his brusqueness and blinked owlishly for a second as she stared helplessly at Damon. Her mind had been all too easy to encompass, a myriad of thoughts flitting in and out faster than a hummingbird's heartbeat. He snared her subconscious within the clutches of his own will and nodded slowly as Evelyn melted back and turned to Caroline. "I have a whole new shipment of scarves, dear. Right this way."_

_He was growing impatient, watching as Caroline rifled through the selection. Finally, something caught his eye and his hand shot out, snaring something in a fine black silk. "This one," he said, rubbing it between his fingers. He turned and held it up for Evelyn to see. "Put it on Blondie's account."_

"_I don't __**have**__ an account here," Caroline pointed out softly._

_He did __**not**__ have time for this. "Fine, put it on mine – 'Salvatore'. We've got to run. Thanks, Evelyn." He dropped the scarf into Caroline's hand and then caught her elbow and dragged her to the door._

"_And you __**totally**__ don't have an account there," Caroline muttered as she sped to his car._

"_Caroline, get in the car. No, I don't have an account there. It's fine. Taken care of. Just __**get in the car**__._

God, he was _moody_. She huffed and got in his car, slamming the door loudly. A second later and he was inside, turning the engine over and pulling from the curb. She pulled the silk scarf through her fingers, from one hand to the other and back again as Damon manoeuvred them through the town square.

"You're pouting," Damon pointed out gruffly, and Caroline spared a glance in his direction to find him watching her with a curious blue gaze.

She snorted and tried to scowl, but her lips kept titling up in an annoyed grin that Damon automatically returned. With another huff and a sigh, she reached up and swept her hair into a ponytail and then began to wind the scarf around her throat. She _so_ did _not_ want to go to this practice – not after what she'd been through in the last eighteen hours. She was still all tingly and pulsing in places she didn't know she had. Damon had found them all and she had catalogued them along the way: the tiny indent behind her knee, the hollow of her hipbone, the crook of her elbow, and the edge of jaw all crackled with Damon's attention, like little sparks of energy flashing over her skin with every breath she took.

And that was only the surface. The colours around her were popping bright and vibrant in a wonderfully glowing daze that Caroline was sure wasn't just a result of the later afternoon sun. She could smell cut grass even though they weren't anywhere near the suburbs; she could smell the florist shop around the corner, Damon's leather jacket, and everywhere the tang of coppery blood lingered. Sucking in a deep breath to calm herself, she sank against her seat and turned her attention out her window.

"You okay over there?"

"Yep," Caroline nodded obediently, turning to the pleats of her skirt and smoothing them down with her fingertips, anything to get her mind off the fact that she felt like she was running…off kilter. Of course, this didn't help either, and her fingertips dragged over every fibre of the cotton and made her rub her fingers together to dispel the ticklish feeling. Under her breath, she mumbled a curse.

"You're fidgeting," Damon pointed out.

"So?" Caroline snapped, suddenly glancing at him with a little scowl.

"Whoa," Damon chuckled, scowling right back. "Settle down." His gaze lingered long enough to make Caroline squirm.

She shifted under his gaze and watched as his blue eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "I fee like I'm crawling out of my skin," she muttered tightly.

Almost instantly, a smile bloomed on Damon's face. He then reached for the radio and threw the switch and instantly, a driving, hard edged guitar riff filled the space of the car. "It's the blood," he said, gracefully pulling the wheel in a turn at the corner. "Feels pretty good, doesn't it?"

_He watched the flurry of blonde hair as she shook and tried to clear her head. Next, her breath hitched on the inhale and she bit her tongue before a low, feminine growl crawled out of her throat and ended in an elegant howl. Almost immediately her hands flew to her head, her neck and shoulders, trailing down her arms as her nerves came alive with his blood. She was high voltage, electric and switched on; Damon could practically smell it._

"_I think I'm gonna overload," Caroline mumbled, a giggle at the end of her words._

"_You're not going to overload, trust me. Use it," he shrugged, spotting the turn off for the school parking lot. "Accept it. It's a gift. Don't let it go to waste." He pulled to a smooth stop and turned to Caroline._

_She looked back at him with dark, shining eyes. "How long will it last?" she purred, angling her body towards his and worrying her bottom lip between her teeth._

_Damon licked his lips and leaned towards her, throwing a quick glance over Caroline's shoulder to the school grounds. Stefan's precious Elena was watching, detached from a group of bouncy girls, and a tiny, dark skinned girl stood next to her. He switched his gaze back to Caroline. "It lasts as long as you want it to," he said lowly, dragging his cool blue gaze over her skin and smirking at the gooseflesh left in its wake. Then he pounced, catching a firm handful of Caroline's silky hair in his fist and angling his mouth hard, down, over hers, in a kiss that did more than claim. She opened up beautifully for him, full lips all lucious and warm. He lingered there, his tongue darting againt hers and his lips tugging until she panted breathlessly in his mouth._

"_Now be good," he said after he let his lips linger on hers for a second longer. Another glance confirmed that Elena and her other little friend were still watching intently. His hand closed over Caroline's upper arm as she reached for the door handle and he held her in place, catching her stare in his. "You'll come over after."_

_That mischievous glint flared in her eyes again. "Maybe," she drawled with the most infuriating head toss. _

_His grip tightened and he yanked her closer, sliding her body right across the seat so that her warmth seeped right through his jeans against his thigh. "Maybe," he growled in warning, "you'd do good to come over after," he said again, refusing to let her go until her pupils flared wide and she gave the slightest nod of her head. Why was this so difficult? She'd come to him easily enough just the night before, hadn't she?_

_The car door slammed shut and he blinked, and watched as Caroline tossed her blonde hair over her shoulder as she swung her bag and spun to glare at him._

"Then _maybe_ you'd better come pick me up. Practice is over at 5:30. Don't be late." Her words had an icy edge but she gave him her most dazzling smile to contrast, and she felt a thrill run up her spine at the deathly smirk that flashed on his handsome face. She blew him a kiss with a wink and then turned and sauntered away.

Who the hell did he think he was fooling, staring over her shoulder at Elena? But she sighed in resignation inside – of course Damon's attraction was too good to be true. Elena always seemed to get the good ones, and she didn't even _do_ anything. She was just _Elena_. Turning her blue eyes to the girl in question and then to their mutual friend Bonnie, Caroline put a spring in her step and laughed to herself as Damon's tires tore up gravel as he spun away dramatically. If anything, Caroline Forbes prided herself on making a memorable entrance. Her last thought of Damon was fleeting, knowing that she'd see him in an hour and half – she'd seen the slightly surprised and obviously annoyed look of acceptance. It made Elena's shocked and quizzical mouth gaping all the more pleasing. _Silly bitch_, Caroline thought as she flounced past Elena and Bonnie. _You can't have them all_.

_Not while I'm still living_.

* * *

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: I had to find a way to set up Leigh Alexander's request for the lemon, so here it is. Thanks to those that have stopped by, recommended me to friends, put me on their alerts, their favorites, etc. It's been a rough month of January so far, complete with one income, asshole clients, and a lack of smoke. Here's to February, the shortest month of the year!

Last episode knocked my socks off. Ian Somerhalder stole the show once again and so the Damon muse is coming awake again – and Caroline has her own sh!t to deal with too – best line of the episode? "Everyone has to stop kissing me!" Ah, such is the life, Care.

* * *

"Hey."

Caroline Forbes looked away from her locker mirror and swung the door half shut, narrowing her blue gaze at Jeremy Gilbert.

"Hey," she started slowly, arching her eyebrow in question.

Jeremy shuffled and glanced down the hall before tugging his bookbag down one shoulder and pulling the zipper open. "Here," he said, lifting a Bio 20 text from inside and handing it to Caroline. "You forgot this when you were over last night, studying with Elena." He held her gaze in his dark depths for a moment, letting the words sink in.

For a moment, Caroline was confused. She hadn't been over to Elena's all summer and now…oh… Of course. "Thanks," she said with a shrug, stuffing the book in beside her sweater. "Oh, here, can you give this back to Elena? I borrowed it last week and…" she trailed off with another shrug, handing over a small fabric change purse, the kind that was made in Ecuador or Peru or something like that.

"No problem," Jeremy answered, shoving the pouch into his hip pocket before turning and skulking down the hall.

Caroline turned back to her locker and more specifically, the text book Jeremy had just handed off. She turned it onto its spine and let the front cover flip open. Sure enough, there was a dime bag, fresh from wherever Jeremy got the stuff, and it taunted Caroline. She stared at it a moment longer, right until Bonnie Bennett's voice broke through her thoughts.

"Hey, you!"

She slammed the locker shut a little too loudly and whirled, widening her eyes as she looked down at Bonnie. "Hey!" Caroline chirped, a little too brightly. "What's up?"

Bonnie's face fell a fraction at Caroline's demeanour. Sure, Caroline was bubbly and upbeat, but there was something slightly skewed with the blonde's perkiness this morning. "You okay?" She leaned a little closer to Caroline, trying to get a read on her.

_Your little friend – the Bennett girl? She's a witch, Caroline. Don't let her in too close._

Damon's murmured words from the night before spun around Caroline's head. She heard them, felt the weight of them, felt the tone of urgency in Damon's request. Bonnie was her friend, she reminded herself, but she didn't let all of her walls down. "I'm fine, I'm just…I dunno," Caroline shrugged, wrinkling her nose, "kinda _off_, I guess." She glanced at Bonnie's hands, clutching lunch and her English book. "Ooh, what's for lunch?" Caroline was nothing, if not a master of steering a conversation in the direction she wanted. She linked her arm with Bonnie's and walked them to the cafeteria.

So, Caroline forgot about the tiny little stash in her locker and instead focused her energies on the chicken salad on whole wheat in front of her, and she listened with half a heart as Bonnie rattled on about how Elena has been avoiding her because she was now spending all of her time with _Stefan_. She nodded when she needed to and mumbled in agreement at Bonnie's heated words, but today, Caroline just couldn't care less about gossip, which was usually her reason for being. Her mind wandered, just like Damon's hands had the night before as he peeled away her practice clothes and spread her legs wide and pushed deep, hard enough to move her right across his bed until her head was hanging off the end and she was staring upside down at his CD collection. He had an interesting taste in music, she had mused, and then the thought flew from her mind as Damon hooked his elbows under her knees and fucked her into the mattress.

"Are you even listening to me?"

Caroline felt her cheeks burn and she focused again on Bonnie's frown. "I'm…I'm sorry, Bon," Caroline apologized lamely. She picked at the crust of her sandwich. "I'm not the best company today."

"Well, I'm gonna need you tonight. I need all the help I can get – Elena wants me to come over and have dinner with her and Stefan. I don't know what it is, Care, but there's something about him that is just…_weird_."

_You don't know the half of it_, Caroline thought briefly. "He's not so bad," she tried, forcing a small smile.

"Not so bad? Not so _bad_? Caroline, Elena has been back at school for exactly three _weeks_ and I haven't seen or heard from her more than _twice_! This guy is totally monopolizing her time and he's just…he's just a little more than _brooding_."

Caroline sighed and shoved her tray aside. "Okay, so you want me to come and run interference?" Bonnie nodded and Caroline shrugged. "Sure. What time?"

* * *

At the end of last year, Caroline had prided herself on her ability to choose classes and arrange them so that on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, she had a free period. Today happened to be Wednesday and while the majority of her classmates were scurrying at their lockers, changing out books for their last class, Caroline took her time, rifling through some papers that she had jammed into the top shelf at the beginning of the year and then assessing the sweaters she had hanging on the hooks. Time to switch those out; she'd been rotating them for the past two weeks. She tucked the red one and the powder blue one under her arm and began piling her books up, making sure to grab the Bio text as well. This last one she perched on the top of her pile so she could keep a close eye on it. Hefting her load, she spun and shouldered the door closed behind her, and ran smack into Tyler Lockwood.

Her books scattered like a flock of birds and her sweaters flopped to the ground. Her purse crashed open and the contents spilled out around her and Tyler's feet. Scowling at him, she huffed and crouched down, immediately grabbing at the tampon that was rolling around the floor. "Thanks," she groused, stuffing things into her purse.

Tyler crouched down to join her, smirk planted firmly on his face. "Jeez, Forbes, what's up? You're usually more graceful than that." He scooped up a few pens and her little pink velour covered notebook and handed them to her.

"I'm _fine_," she snapped, snatching her belongings back from Tyler's meaty grasp. She shoved the pens and notebook into her purse as well. She stood, watching as Tyler did the same, and it was then that she noticed he was holding the Bio textbook and opening the front cover.

"Well, well, well," Tyler grinned, plucking the little bag of contraband from the inside hollow that had been cut in and waving it before her wide eyes. "Looks like you could use a little more of this – you know, to help you _relax_."

"Fuck _off_, Tyler," she hissed, reaching to snatch it from his grasp, only to have him pull it further away and hold it over his head.

His dark eyes glanced around the hall for a moment, looking to see if they had been noticed. Then he wiggled the bag back and forth again. "Come on, Forbes, let's slip out back and hang out with the heads." He narrowed his dark gaze at her and tilted his head curiously. "You get this from Gilbert, don't you? Shit, I should have known, you and Elena are, like, besties, aren't you? Probably don't even have to wheel and deal – does he give you a good price?"

Caroline growled and, clutching Tyler's shoulder with one hand, climbed _up_ his torso and tore the bag out of his grasp. "Tyler, you're an asshole," she surmised as she came back to her feet.

"Is there a problem here?"

They both turned, Tyler and Caroline, and froze when they noticed Mrs. Peters, one of the admin assistants, watching with an arched eyebrow. The older woman turned her grey eyes from Tyler and then to Caroline, and then zeroed in on the little bag clutched in Caroline's grasp. "Ms. Forbes? Care to explain?"

She wanted to say it wasn't hers. Hell, she could probably pin it on Tyler but the bastard had already collected the Bio text from the floor and, handing it back to Caroline with the cover wide open, the little hidey hole displayed proudly to Mrs. Peters, he walked backwards, his hands in a gesture of refusal.

"Caroline, I told you, I'm an _athlete_. I'm not into that stuff."

Mrs. Peters watched him go, and as the older woman turned back to Caroline, Tyler's face split into the infamous Lockwood shit-eating grin. Mrs. Peters stepped into Caroline's line of sight and threw her most stern look at the girl. "If you please, Ms. Forbes. The principal's office." She gestured up the hall and ushered Caroline the whole way.

* * *

"I can't believe this. Of all the things you have ever been stupid enough to do, _this_ is the icing on the cake. Marijuana, Caroline? And at _school_?"

Caroline heard her mother's words, let them float around the room, but all she could concentrate on was the blue Charger parked at the curb outside the police station.

"Well?"

Caroline looked to Sheriff Liz Forbes and blinked. "Well, what?"

Her mother sighed and sank behind her desk, reaching for the bottom drawer. She withdrew a bottle of Advil and screwed the top off, fishing three out and downing them with the glass of water on her desk. With a deep breath, she settled her hands on the top of the desk and tried again.

"Is it school? Are there kids at school pressuring you to do this? I know that you hang around Elena Gilbert; her brother Jeremy has been spending time with a rather unsavoury crowd this semester."

"No – _mom_," Caroline sighed, rolling her head back so that it thudded against the wall behind her chair. "It's not school."

"Well, then what is it? Ever since school started you've been…different."

Her mother's uncertain tone made Caroline wince but she couldn't keep the venom from her next words. "Well, you know, a girl needs her _daddy_."

Liz visibly flinched but brushed it off. She was more than used to her daughter's verbal attacks, especially as of late. "Look, honey, I know you're upset about things right now, and believe me, if I could make things better for you, I would. But you out of all people should know that drugs _aren't _the answer."

"Mom, I'm not doing _drugs_!" Caroline growled, rolling her eyes.

"Are you selling them? Mrs. Peters said that you tried to sell something to Tyler Lockwood. The mayor's _son_? Are you out of your mind? Do you know how this is going to make me look? I'm the sheriff of this town and my daughter is dealing drugs to the kids in her class!"

Those last words made Caroline's brain shut off and she watched as her mother paced the office, muttering about her reputation and her duty and how bad this looked.

_You've got balls, sweetheart._

Caroline sat a little straighter, glancing about the room.

_Next time try getting your stuff __**outside**__of school._

Her heart began to beat a little faster, her breath hitched just slightly at the dark, familiar voice that was floating around her head. A sharp knock on the door halted Liz's tirade and she swung to see it open. A dark head poked through and narrowed a blue gaze on the sheriff.

"Sheriff Forbes, I hate to interrupt," Damon began, and he took a moment to look at Caroline. "Oh. I'm sorry, I can come back…"

"No, Damon, it's fine. This is my daughter, Caroline. She goes to school with your brother."

Damon smiled brightly, acting like he'd never laid eyes on Caroline before. "Hi. Nice to meet you." He held his hand out. "Damon Salvatore."

Caroline could only stare at his outstretched hand. Then she glanced back to her mother, waiting for an explanation. "Show some manners, Caroline," Liz pleaded, fatigue lacing her voice. "Damon has been helping out since the animal attacks started. He's been an invaluable source of help."

"Really," Caroline muttered flatly, her eyes never leaving Damon.

_Don't even __**think**__about blowing my cover, Blondie. You're in over your head already. This would only take you deeper._

_Damon shrugged like he hadn't just threatened Caroline and turned his beaming smile at Liz. "Look, I just thought you should know that there's some talk of students being out by the falls later tonight. I heard Stefan talking. With everything that's been going on, I really don't think that this would be something to chalk up to teenage rebellion." He trailed off and raised an inquisitive eyebrow. _

_Liz turned to look out the window and gather her thoughts, and Damon took the opportunity to turn his blue gaze back to Caroline, winking mischievously. "I'm not keen on Stefan being out there," he continued, "and I'd hate to see anything happen to your own daughter." He licked his canine for good measure and watched as Caroline squirmed._

"_I assure you, Damon, that my daughter won't be going anywhere for a very long time." Liz paused and glanced at her watch. "We don't have much time before sunset." Her eyes flicked back to Caroline, and another disappointed look crossed her face. "Normally I wouldn't ask this, Damon, but I've got to get my team organized and out into the field right away. Would you…I mean, do you mind seeing Caroline home?"_

"_I don't need a babysitter," Caroline surged, throwing her mother a murderous glare._

"_Your actions today seem to tell me otherwise," Liz countered with a look to match her daughter's._

"_It's fine," Damon assured the sheriff, amused at Caroline's little outburst. He wondered what she might have done to get herself into hot water with her mother. "I don't blame you – I already made sure Stefan was home and he's not planning on going far tonight, if he knows what's good for him. I'll make sure that no harm comes to Caroline."_

"_Thank you, Damon. And thanks for letting me know what's going on." She glanced at Caroline once more before continuing. "God knows what these kids are up to these days." Liz gathered h_

_Caroline fought the urge to have the last word, something she was a pro at, and instead settled for flipping the sheriff of as she left the office. When the door shut, glass rattling, Damon chuckled and settled against the desk, crossing his arms over his chest and looking down his nose at Caroline._

"_So. What did you do to get a one-way ticket to the sheriff's office? Judging from that little exchange I'm going to guess that you weren't here for some mother-daughter boding."_

_The blonde heaved an unladylike snort and gathered her bag before standing. "Look, it's been kind of a shitty day, so if you don't mind, I just want to go home."_

_Damon scanned the office for a moment, noting the closed windows, the locks on the doors, and the wide, sturdy surface of the oak desk he was leaning on. "Are you sure?" he purred with a cocky grin. "I could make your little trip downtown worthwhile." He waited for a second and then Caroline's heart rate skyrocketed, a stampeding thump against her ribs that filled the space of the office. He cocked his ear a fraction further, listening to the sounds of the sheriff issuing orders. Next came the shuffle of feet and voices and doors closing. Then: silence. The sheriff's office was empty of everyone but the vampire and his prey._

"_Damon," she sighed. "I'm tired, I'm bummed out, I've been accused of dealing pot to the mayor's son at school, and I could murder a cheesecake right about now. To top it off, I have to go run interference at Elena's tonight because Bonnie doesn't want to be alone with Elena and Stefan."_

_His ears perked at his brother's name. "Wait, what?"_

_Another sigh, this one finished off with a delectable pout. "Elena wants Bonnie and Stefan to be better friends so she's having this dinner tonight. Bonnie doesn't really care for Stefan," and here Caroline paused and wrinkled her nose, "and she thinks he's __**weird**__."_

_Damon chuckled darkly. "Stefan __**is**__ 'weird'. How about if I come along tonight? Hmm? Maybe just to make sure that everything goes smoothly." He stepped away from the desk and moved towards Caroline until she was pressed up against the door. He pushed a knee between legs and muffled a moan when he felt the heat of her through the denim of his jeans. Trailing his fingers through her hair, he then drew them down her neck to her collarbone, making her shiver delightfully. "It's obviously got you all wound up, right?" He placed a gentle kiss on the end of her nose and pulled back to look into her eyes. "I hate to see you so tense," he murmured, pouring the charm into his voice and trying his best to sound sincere. It must have worked because Caroline's pout intensified with the hint of a small, playful smile. "I think," he added smoothly while his fingers began to slowly slip the first two buttons of her shirt open, "that we should make sure you're good and relaxed before going over to Elena's. What do you say?" He leaned in again and breathed the scent of her skin before gliding his tongue along the long, gentle curve of her neck._

His tongue was undoing her with more than his words. She closed her eyes with a sigh of resignation and tilted her head back against the door. His lips continued to tease the skin of her jaw, and then he sucked delicately on one earlobe and wound his tongue around it before sinking gently into the tender flesh with his teeth. She clutched the leather of his jacket so hard it creaked and a sharp spiral of pleasure spun through her nerves. His name left her throat in a shuddering sigh and when his breath ghosted across her mouth she whined, licking her lips and his in the process.

"I told Bonnie I'd bring dessert," she muttered lamely. Her fingers snared his hair and she held him steady as she licked his mouth once more and then pressed a full, wet kiss to his lips. A thrill ran through her when he responded instantly, groaning against her and sweeping his palm down her chest and across her hip to rest snugly against the juncture of her thighs. He squeezed, rolling his tongue with hers, and broke their kiss with gentle panting.

"_I make a __**mean**__ panna cotta," Damon replied before grasping her skirt with both hands and yanking it up to her hips. "I promise that your little dinner party will go smoothly."_

_

* * *

_

Mwahahaahaha! Next up is the lemon requested by Leigh Alexander!


	6. Chapter 6

_A/N: For Leigh Alexander, because they so lovingly asked. Actually, it's because they won my little challenge from Chapter 3. Anyway, here's chapter 6, HERE BE LEMONS! Chapter 7 is well on its way. I have NO idea how long this will go on for...probably right up until Caroline is turned._

_I want to take a moment and thank all of you once again for stopping by here and by the first instalment of this saga, 'The Perfection of Death'. Many of you have asked, as this is the prequel, that there be a sequel, too. Don't worry, it's locked safely in the recesses of my mind and scribbles on my word processor. It will happen. All will be revealed in good time…_

* * *

"I told Bonnie I'd bring dessert," she muttered lamely. Her fingers snared his hair and she held him steady as she licked his mouth once more and then pressed a full, wet kiss to his lips. A thrill ran through her when he responded instantly, groaning against her and sweeping his palm down her chest and across her hip to rest snugly against the juncture of her thighs. He squeezed, rolling his tongue with hers, and broke their kiss with gentle panting.

"_I make a __**mean**__ panna cotta," Damon replied before grasping her skirt with both hands and yanking it up to her hips. "I promise that your little dinner party will go smoothly."_

_

* * *

_

He wanted to break her. That way, he'd be in control again. And so, he broke her down inch by soft, smooth, warm inch. Starting at her collarbone, he rubbed his tongue over the thin skin there and tugged the thin skin up between the flat of his teeth, biting sharp and quick. Next, his nose trailed from the pulse in her throat to her soft upper arm, following the warm, sweet smell of her blood. The hitch in her breath followed with a sigh as his fingers sank into her hips, holding her with steely intent.

_She was so… __**willing**__…at this moment. Caroline, he had discovered, was almost impossible to compel in any situation. Only when Damon had her vulnerable with lips and hips and the promise of bruised satisfaction did she bend to his every whim and will. "Caroline," he moaned, barely above a whisper. Once more he found her mouth, kissing her deeply as she melted against the door._

_Touching her excited him beyond belief. She was vibrating, he was sure of it, little tremors of pleasure rolling through muscle and nerves and blood vessels. Hot, and sweetly pliant, she responded to his every move. Her hips fit against his snugly; one of her impossibly long legs hooked over his lean hip while the other snaked about his thigh. His hands tugged at her, cupping her ass and grinding her core against the hard length of his erection that pressed against the fly of his jeans. The damp heat of her scorched him through his jeans and made him growl._

_With another rough groan – from himself or Caroline, he wasn't sure – he spun them around, one arm hoisting against his torso and the other already clearing the desk. Everything scattered; the lamp crashed on impact with the floor and pens and pencils showered down in a noisy clatter. Her sudden wanton gasp at the sound drove him wild and he dropped her hurriedly onto the polished oak surface. In an instant he had tugged her panties off with a snap and now he hovered between her shaking thighs, one hand clutching her hair to steady her while the other hand pushed between her things. She was soaking already, and slippery hot._

_He dropped to his knees, pressing his nose against her thighs and breathing deeply, the scent of her skin, her arousal, and her blood swarming his senses and colliding in a most delicious cocktail. He licked and nipped at her skin as she squirmed under his steely grip, and he left shallow bite marks on her hips and thighs. He smirked at the sight of her so close, wet, swollen, sweet like ginger. _

_His. So very much __**his**__ and he wasted no time surging forward and taking her wholly, sweeping the flat of his tongue up between slick and pink flesh until it flickered against her clit. Her nails dug deep into his scalp as she clung on for her sanity. No build up, no slow simmer for her or him – this was going to be napalm, atomic pressure, mindblowing…he growled and licked her again, and then again, alternating between slow, deep sweeps and hard, stabbing tastes at that hard, pink clit that he couldn't get enough of. Instantly, Caroline began to shake and sob, clutching at Damon's shoulders, head, neck, pushing him away and pulling him closer. _

"_Damon," she gasped, wriggling back against the door to get away. "Damon, stop," she moaned even as her hips bucked against his chin._

"_Hmm," he hummed into her flesh. "No," he grunted, snaking a hand up her thigh and swinging it over his shoulder so that she was even more open to him. Curling his arm over her thigh to hold her, his palm flattened against her pelvis, his fingers spreading her folds so that he could see everything. In his jeans, his cock throbbed dully, watching as the pinkest parts of Caroline squeezed and another sweet surge of moisture spilled out. He focused his attentions on that, pressing his thumb against her clit just the way she liked and stabbing his tongue right inside of her until she was cumming, one torrent of shivering sweetness after another._

It was like a slap in the face: her orgasm was just suddenly _there_ and the only thing Caroline could do was hold on for dear life as she felt herself quake, felt herself tip forward and tumble and then Damon was there, warmly pressed against her and holding her steady as she came back to herself. He murmured against her ear as his fingers still stroked her, and when he kissed her she melted against his mouth, tasting him and her on his tongue. Immediately he pushed two sure fingers inside, deep and snug, and he plunged them back and forth until she was rolling her hips again and panting his name. She came hard with a silent scream into the palm of his hand and his kiss grew sharp, snagging her lips with his teeth. As he drew blood she dug her nails into his forearms, tearing the pale flesh until she felt the silky liquid of his own blood under her fingertips.

He hissed, followed by a low chuckle, and then he snatched her hips with his hands and yanked her forward so that her ass balanced on the edge of the desk. She barely had time to grab his shoulders when he caught her chin with one hand and clutched her hair again with the other, giving her a smart tug. She struggled to calm her heaving breaths with a small hiccup. The look in his eyes was determined, darkly so, and he stared at her for a long second.

"What is it about you, Caroline?" he mumbled, his blue gaze flickering down her poised body and then back up to her own blue eyes. His tongue slid over his lips and Caroline couldn't help but do the same.

He held her at arms length as if she was the one who might bite (and she might, given the chance), and stood motionless, breathing deeply, his stare becoming more and more intense with every passing moment. Her blood was spiking still, her heart thundering in her chest, and she clutched the edge of the desk under her fingers and bit her bottom lip in frustration.

_He was going to give her what she was writhing for, that was for certain. But he mapped her body, every curve and crevice of smooth, alabaster skin, took note of the dark shades of blue that made up her eyes, and tried to put it all in perspective. Caroline, he reminded himself, is your tie to Elena. But really, he had Stefan for that. So Caroline…Caroline was his to with what he pleased._

_He wrenched his buckle open and watched as her pupils spun wide. The whisper of his fly opening made Caroline's soft pink lips open wetly with another wanton moan. He used one hand to pull his length out of his briefs and his jeans, sliding the material of both to rest just below his hips. He steadied himself and with the other hand he tilted her hips to his liking, and then he pressed the broad head of his cock against her, soaking just the first few inches, sliding his thumb up and down her clit. Her breath hitched and her thighs tensed as she began to buck against him, looking for more of him. He obliged, sinking further inside, and then he pulled back, dragging his length out while he dragged his thumb over her clit again. He pushed back deeper still, and pulled out, dragging Caroline down with him in a slow, razor sharp spiral, not quite leaving her unsatisfied, but never giving her enough, either. He could hear the frustration in her cries, saw it in the way she narrowed her gaze and sneered at him. She called him a fucker and jerked her hips up, surprising them both with the move that caused Damon to sink up deeply inside. _

He was so far inside that Caroline's vision blurred and she whimpered in discomfort. He was _big_, she'd learned that the first night, but after he'd gotten her off twice already she was tight as a drum and he was taking up every inch he could. He was already splitting her with the rhythm he'd chosen and now his belt buckle smacked the wooden edge of the desk as he fucked her, his hands grasping her ass with every thrust. Every breath left her in a choppy moan. He shifted and coiled an arm behind her back and propped the other on the desk to her right. With a grin he pistoned her, drilling in sharp, deep bursts that made her fingers slide between them and slide through the wetness coating the base of his cock before finding her clit. The first touch sent sparks up her spine and she shook as she leaned back on her elbow and tossed her damp curls from her eyes.

Damon was watching her with a smirk.

"What?" She gasped with a curious look.

Damon shrugged and slowed his hips, looking down at the desk and the way she was arranged on it. He moved his hips back and she whined – _whined_ – when he slipped from her. "C'mere," he grunted, taking a hold of her hips and sliding her to stand. Then he spun her and pressed against her shoulder, pushing her over the desk. Another surge of lust rolled up her spine; her eyes closed shut as she moaned hotly against the desktop. This was her favourite.

The fabric of his jeans was stiff, roughly scraping against the soft skin of her bare ass, and he cupped her cheeks for a moment, palming them and tracing his thumb down between them as he slid her skirt up once more. A second later he was pressing inside, hard and hot and heavy, and when she flung her arm out to find purchase on the smooth surface of the desk, Damon caught it and pulled it back, hooking her elbows behind her back with one of his own.

"This is kinda kinky," he purred, pulling out until just the tip of him was pressed into her tightness. "Me, a vampire, fucking you, the sheriff's daughter, on the sheriff's desk. I know there's a limerick in here somewhere, but at the moment, it's escaping me. You have a magnificent pussy, Caroline, did I tell you that?" He made his point with a sharp grunt and the flat of his palm smacking her smartly across the ass.

The extra sting made her gasp and really, she should have been trying to get _away_ from this situation instead of letting her body go limp so he could do what he pleased. Oh, but what he pleased pleased her in return and she could only nod frantically and moan in response to his admission of magnificence. "Ohhh…ohmygodDamon," she mumbled. Her eyes squeezed shut as he ploughed back in and rocked his hips at a breathtaking angle.

_He hummed again in agreement and found a nice rhythm, one that made Caroline's breath shudder out in whimpers and made her hips rock back against his. He hauled her up, pulling at her arms and adding the pain to the pleasure, and when her ass rested against his pelvis and he was nestled deep inside, his free hand snaked up the front of her body, under her blouse, and tugged down the flimsy cups of her bra so he could torment her breasts. He squeezed, he plucked and pulled and twisted her nipples and jerked quick, little thrusts into her until her voice began to warble out with each bounce_

_Leaving off the swollen, hard buds of her nipples – he'd tackle them with his tongue when he had a bed – he slid one had up further, this time to sweep her hair from her neck and over one shoulder. Then he held her steadily by the throat and leaned down to breath over her neck._

"_Caroline," he moaned, winding his tongue up her neck to her ear. "You're so sweet, Caroline," he began smoothly. "Sweet and pretty and…unngh!" he made his frustration with her known with a grunt and a sharp thrust. Her voice pitched out, tumbled around the office in a wail, and Damon grinned, feeling his fangs push through his gums. "Scream for me, Caroline," he urged, his lips hovering over the place where her neck met her shoulder. "Scream just for me."_

* * *

(Mommy? What do you do with the bad guys when you catch them?)

(Caroline! Don't drag that across the desk! You'll scratch the wood!)

* * *

Her blood was making a small puddle on the desk. She lay there with her cheek pressed to the wood as her breathing returning to normal. Damon quaked and shook behind her, a long, satisfied groan reverberating in his chest. Her arms were stiff, still half-hitched behind her back, and her thighs ached. Where Damon bit her was numb and she didn't know if it was a trick of her mind or a trick of his teeth. Then he moved her, scooped her up in surprisingly gentle arms and turning her in the circle of his embrace so that he could look into her eyes. She didn't shy from him but met his gaze head on. She watched the darkness fade from his face and the clear blue of his eyes dazzle her in the late afternoon light that was filtering through the blinds, making little patches of blazing bronze and gold on her skin. Damon hadn't even unbuttoned his shirt.

_What is it about you, Caroline?_

His wandering thoughts seeped into her mind for a moment and then nothing, nothing but clouded secrets, shadows, and all the darkness that made up Damon.

* * *

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

_A/N: You didn't think I'd mention how mean a panna cotta Damon made without demonstrating said culinary skills, did you? Double update, sans lemons, but I'm working towards a doozy for my next update. _

_SPOILER ALERT!_

_So there I am watching 'The Dinner Party' (funny story, I actually saw a porn once with the same title and THAT brought up a whole bunch of images!) and the part where Stefan's just got off the phone with Damon after killing Elijah for the first time and Elena's still flipping through that diary and then she reads the part about the dagger not being removed and I just started screaming at the screen : read the damn instructions all the way through! I mean, she reads the first bit about Damon not being able to use the dagger and Stefan just gets on the phone right away. Now, if I were Elena, I would have told Stefan to calm the fuck down and wait until I'd read anything – especially after information as important as that!_

_Anyway, enjoy these next two bits – I had fun writing, you'll recognize a few lines from Season 1, ep 3 and one line from The Hangover. First reader to guess the line from The Hangover and leave their answer in review, and I'll let you pick a nice juicy lemon. Remember that little tryst in the sheriff's office? That was a product of a reader request – just a taste of what I can do._

_

* * *

_

He could do this with his eyes closed; his steps through this room had been perfected in the first decade of the twentieth century. He knew where everything was, too – Damon, unlike Stefan, found peace and solace with working in the kitchen, something that Stefan failed to see as inherently human.

"_You're not going to win any man of the year awards by making mama's orrechiette, Damon."_

_Damon had smirked at that jibe only the day after he'd returned to Mystic Falls this time. He flashed dazzling blue eyes at his little brother. "True. But have __**you**__ ever cooked for your precious Elena?" The dazed, slightly incensed look on Stefan's face was answer enough that no, he had __**never**__ cooked for the girl. Damon was only too pleased. "Well then. One bite of this and she'll be eating out of the palm of my hand."_

_Stefan had felt that to be a big enough threat, and had left the boarding house in a huff._

_The elder Salvatore grinned at the memory and spun to the fridge to gather cream and milk, and then moved to the cupboard for sugar and the jar of Madagascar vanilla bean. He worked quickly, picturing his mother Vittoria in the early dawn light as she put together the decadent dish for a Sunday brunch. Milk and gelatine were combined, although Damon now used the packaged gelatine as opposed to boiling off fish bones. The smell alone still haunted him. On the stove, in a heavy pan he combined sugar and cream. He stirred, mimicking the loose, careless flow of his mother's (and his) delicate wrist. He wiped at a strand of dark hair that had fallen over his eyes and remembered the jet black fall of his mother's curls. After another moment, Damon set the wooden spoon down and waited for the swarm of images from his past to calm. He then continued to stir and watched for the boil._

_He added the milk, and gave another gentle stir._

"_How long, mama?" eight year old Damon asked, dancing on his tiptoes and glancing up at her fine-boned face._

_She settled a hand on her heavily pregnant belly and indulged her oldest with a bright smile. "Very soon."_

_A minute later and Damon pulled the pan from the heat, added the vanilla which he had scraped effortlessly from its pod with the tip of a knife, and then poured the mixture into six individual ramekins. He left them there on the counter to cool down – he had another four hours before dinner was served; just enough time to set._

_Upstairs, he contemplated showering but knew that the scent of Caroline on him would drive Stefan bat-shit crazy, trying to figure out (as if he wouldn't know) just how Damon ended up smelling like the girl in the first place. Damon had dropped Blondie off after their little tryst in her mother's office, and then he came back through town, stopping once again at Evelyn's shop._

_He stared at the bag from the boutique for a moment. He hadn't known why he'd done it at the time, but Evelyn had rung up his purchase, putting it on his 'account' and folding it gently between thin layers of purple tissue and sliding it home into the bright green shopping bag. It was mocking him now, his little impulse buy, and he tried to reason why he'd bought it._

_The sound of tires on the gravel driveway brought him out of his musing and he moved to the window and pushed the heavy curtains aside. The sleek, sliver excuse for a Charger that Caroline drove was pulling into his driveway._

* * *

Did this mean she was desperate? Did it mean she was needy? Clingy? Naïve?

Did it mean she cared?

All she knew was that she did _not_ want to have to deal with her mother after that afternoon. The very thought of the sheriff's office made Caroline blush; she could still feel the sting and burn between her legs. The insides of her thighs were bruised, scraped from Damon's belt buckle, and when she'd gotten home earlier and stripped down for a shower, she could already see the faint purple marks that Damon's fingers had left on her hips. She'd been well fucked, that much was true.

When she had closed her eyes under the hot, pounding spray, it made her think of that first morning after she'd lured him back to her place with the verbal promise of vodka and the smouldering looks that spoke of sex. That morning he'd hauled her into the shower, scrubbed her down, and proceeded to take his time fingering her until she was a quivering mess in his hands. Then, like he always did, he moved her the way he wanted her and took, and she gave it all, because it meant that she'd get hers again and again. Well, at least as long as he was willing. She knew that by now – this was not her show; she was not in charge here. But that was okay. That was what she wanted.

So, did showing up at Damon's house without any sort of response to her texts mean that she was overstepping her boundaries or did it mean that she was doing exactly what he wanted her to do? Sometimes she felt the sudden urge to obey anything and everything that came from his mouth – if she saw it would serve her some purpose, too. Those times she argued or was less inclined to yield seemed to both fascinate and infuriate him. The thought of what he might do out of anger thrilled her, and that was what scared her the most. She could handle a guy who wanted a bit of rough and tumble brought on by playful banter, but sometimes the coldness in Damon's eyes just made her do things she wasn't so sure she'd do for anyone else.

Killing the ignition for the car, Caroline sat for a spell, staring at the front door of the Salvatore mansion. To say that she was nervous was an understatement. That little (well, it wasn't really _little_) tryst that afternoon had come out of no where. She shouldn't have been surprised that Damon would actually proposition her in her mother's office, but she couldn't believe she'd gone along with it, with minimal convincing. Now she had no idea what was in store for her beyond the threshold of the mansion. She worried her lip with her bottom teeth and glanced down at her outfit. He'd told her to wear her green and white sundress and she'd done so gladly, feeling giddy as she dressed for him. She felt almost silly now, taking orders from a guy on what to wear and how to screw.

She blew out a breath. She was over analyzing the situation. Yes, Damon was a monster, a killer in all sense of the word, but he'd never done her anymore harm than making her hips ache and drawing blood now and again. He wasn't out to get her. She'd come to him. Willingly. Yep. She nodded to herself for good measure and grabbed her purse and her jean jacket, and quickly slipped out of the car.

_

* * *

_

Damon frowned as he watched Caroline march up the drive to the front door. He was supposed to pick her up. Snatching up his phone, he checked his messages. Ah, there was the problem – the girl had been

_**texting**__ him. He shuddered – he __**hated**__ texting. He scrolled through them, noting that they started almost as soon as he had dropped her off:_

_Care: Hey, if it's okay, I'm coming over early, okay? I soo don't need another run in with mom. Bye! _

_Care: I'm headed over soon, just picking up flowers, then I'll swing by? Okay, bye!_

_Care: Hellooo, do you ever answer your texts? I'm just leaving the flower shop. Maybe you're busy making that 'mean panna cotta'? Bye!_

_Care: WTF, Salvatore? At least you could show some form of courtesy and answer! A simple smiley would do! Whatevs, see you soon_

_He rubbed the space between his eyes and sighed. He had a sinking suspicion he was in over his head. Snatching up the shopping bag he sped from his room, snagging a shirt along the way. At the bottom of the stairs he tossed the package onto the couch and slid his arms into the sleeves of his shirt, leaving it unbuttoned for effect. He could hear her on the other side of the door._

Shouldn'thavecome, shouldn'thavecome, shouldn'thavecome…the words looped through her brain, brought on by acute paranoia that she had smothered him with her incessant texting. But seriously, he could have thrown a smiley her way. She reached out, hand already curling into a fist to knock on the door. She brought it down and stopped an inch from the wooden surface. Just knock. That's all you have to do. Knock. Knock, Caroline. Knock. Knock. On. The. Door! But she was frozen.

The door flew open. "Forget to breathe, Blondie?"

A small _eep_ left her lips and she gave him a stupid look, her hand poised to knock, her bottom lip pulled between her teeth. "Uhmm…hey!"

His blue eyes narrowed at her and looked past her to her car, and then back to her. "What are you doing here?" he asked sharply.

Caroline dropped her hand, heaved a sigh, and pushed past him into the front hall of the mansion. "I texted you," she said matter-of-factly, "so this shouldn't be a surprise." She dropped her purse onto the low table and crossed her arms over her chest, waiting for a cheeky response.

Damon smiled at the front step where Caroline had been a second ago and whirled, slamming the door shut as he spun. His smile grew tight. "Look, call me, leave a voicemail, but don't text me. I hate that."

She flinched, shocked at his admission. Vampire or not, he really needed to get with the now. Texting was all _anybody_ did. Still, it made sense and she felt a tiny glimmer of hope – so, maybe she hadn't _smothered_ him, per se, with all of texts. Just annoyed him – an honest mistake. "Noted," she said with a smirk and a shrug. Next she breathed deeply. "What smells so good?"

He noted the vanilla wafting from the back of the house and he tipped his head in the direction of the kitchen. "Panna cotta," he said in flawless Italian. It sent a little shiver up Caroline's spine that did not go unnoticed by Damon.

"Ooh, is it ready? I totally want a sample!" She turned and headed towards the kitchen.

Damon caught her first, catching her arms and holding her at bay. She pouted for effect. "Come on, please? Just one little bite?"

_Oh, the number of times he'd begged and pleaded just like that. And the number of times it had __**worked**__. Caroline batted thick, dark lashes and looked up at Damon. He felt himself unable to tear his gaze from hers; he suspected this bratty, stubborn look had been perfected by her for years and she'd used it on everyone she came across. He wasn't the only one used to getting his own way._

_He chuckled, shaking his head, and he leaned down and pressed the tiniest of kisses to the corner of her mouth. "Patience," he breathed. "It won't be ready for hours."_

_She gave a frustrated sigh that was simply annoying and endearing all at once. "Oh, pouty! You don't like being told what to do, do you?" Damon turned her and steered her back towards the parlour._

_She snorted and tossed her hair, but walked to the couch. "Not really," she admitted._

"_Hmm…" He wandered to the wet bar and chose bourbon for himself. "Would you like something?"_

_She thought about it for a moment. "A Cosmo."_

_Damon fixed her with a glare. Where the hell did she think she was, the Bellagio? He busied himself with what he had on hand. In seconds he joined Caroline on the couch, cradling his tumbler of bourbon in one hand and her drink in the other._

She took the offered concoction and stared at it for a moment. Cosmos were supposed to be pink, and this was most definitely _not_ pink. It wasn't even rosy. It was clear, with maybe a faint hint of orange to it. She took another sniff and a hesitant sip. Alcohol burned her tongue, but it was smooth, if not strong. She took a larger sip and rolled it over her tongue for good measure. When she swallowed she set the glass down and exhaled lowly. "What is that?"

Damon smirked into his drink and took a sip before answering. "A Cosmo. Without the cranberry or lime or pink. Drink up, that's Grey Goose in there and it doesn't come cheap."

"You're so bossy, you know that? Is that because you're the oldest sibling?"

Damon sucked his teeth and leered at Caroline, and for a moment the blonde thought she might have gone too far. Instead of answering her question, he addressed her observation: "Would you like to see just how bossy I can be?" There was no malice in his tone, just the smooth, low tones of his voice caressing each and every syllable.

She drew a shuddering breath and held it, not sure how to answer. His gaze was travelling up and down her body, lingering on her throat, her chest, and the length of her legs where they peeked out of another short summer dress. She crossed her legs and watched Damon shift closer. Exhaling, she replied, "What did you have in mind?" and hoped that it didn't sound too desperate or too naïve.

The vampire surged from his seat and towered over her for a moment before leaning down and brushing his nose over her ear. He reached to a spot beside her, hummed lowly in her ear, and then pulled back, depositing a shopping bag into her lap. Caroline recognized the green paper shopper already and she fingered the purple tissue and traced the black lettering that read "Evelyn's" with her fingertip before glancing warily at Damon. "What is it?"

_He laughed at her nerves. "Well, it's not a bomb, Caroline," he chided, sitting back and sipping his drink once more. He swallowed, licked his lips, and then shifted again, setting his glass on the table. "Open it," he said with a chuckle._

_He watched, fascinated, as Caroline gently set her drink down and peeled the layers of tissue back. He could tell she was confused; her scent clouded him and it was mixed with fear and uncertainty. Good – he'd thrown her for a loop, turned the tables on her so to speak. But then again, he'd expected her to tear into the package to discover the contents, not pull the tissue-wrapped bundle from inside, set it on her lap, and then fold the bag down and place it neatly on the table. She then fumbled the package with her fingers, bending it, squishing it, and furrowing her brow when she discovered nothing but softness. Unfolding it carefully, she finally opened the tissue and stared silently at the beautifully woven scarf that was inside._

_Damon snatched the end of it and unfolded it, holding the scarf up to its full length, at least five feet. It was silk, woven like lace, and hand painted in shades of green and bronze, and it went perfectly with Caroline's dress. She gave him a look that was halfway between a scowl and smile and he laughed again. "I want to see you in this," he said, handing it to her and watching as she wiggled out of the small denim jacket she wore. But he stopped her when she began to wind it around her neck with an ever-brightening smile. "Wait," he said, shaking his head. "I want to see you in this, and __**nothing**__ else."_


	8. Chapter 8

_A/N: No lemon here, either. Just some plot. Enjoy!_

* * *

"You're still thinking about it, aren't you?"

Caroline tried to ignore Damon's breath on her neck and the way his words stirred up images from the last four hours. In the time he'd needed to set the panna cotta, he'd shown her all of the different knots he'd learned as a soldier and a handful of new positions. She'd let him bite her again, several times actually, and she could still feel the ghost of his teeth.

Instead of answering his question, she focused on the doorbell of the Gilbert home.

"It's not going to ring itself," Damon purred, leaning past her to push the button, making sure that the leather of his jacket brushed against her bare arm. As he moved to stand straight, he left a fleeting kiss on her shoulder and stood behind her again.

"Relax," he muttered, trailing his fingertips through the ends of her blonde curls.

"Easy for you to say," Caroline replied in a shaky voice.

The door of the Gilbert home flew open. Elena stood on the other side, Stefan hovering nearby in the shadows. "Ummm…hey…Caroline. What are you…" Elena trailed off, her brown eyes growing wide as she noticed Damon standing right behind the blonde girl.

Caroline sucked a deep breath. "Hi!" She barrelled in and brushed a friendly kiss on Elena's cheek as she handed Stefan the tray that held the panna cotta. "Sorry, Bonnie mentioned dinner and I didn't think you'd mind…"

"Damon," Stefan acknowledge tightly, glancing at the desserts in his hand before looking back to his brother.

"Hello, brother," Damon smirked before turning to Elena. "Aren't you going to invite me in?"

"Some other time," Stefan grumbled, hooking a hand into the crook of Elena's elbow.

"Sure," Elena said at the same time, glancing back at Stefan with a curious gaze. She watched Caroline step into the kitchen with Bonnie and then turned back to Damon. "Come on in."

Caroline watched the exchange from behind the couch, hovering between the front entrance and the kitchen. She didn't miss the looks between Stefan and Damon, nor did she miss the way Damon's eyes travelled over Elena and made the brunette shift in her place and tuck a strand of hair behind her ear – that was Elena's tell, when she was setting up for flirt mode. Caroline narrowed her own eyes and looked back to Damon. As he stepped over the threshold, he caught her eye and smirked, raising that dark eyebrow once more, before turning his full attention to Elena.

"You okay?"

Caroline looked to Bonnie who was gazing at her with a worried expression. Caroline plastered on her brightest smile, hoping that it reached her eyes, and she shrugged, holding up the panna cotta. "Sure! Come help me find room in the fridge for this?" She followed Bonnie into the kitchen and tried – and miserably failed – to tune out Damon's low, smooth voice as it flattered Elena and her home and her entertaining abilities.

"This looks good – what is it?" Bonnie asked as she balanced the tray in one hand and opened the fridge with the other.

"Panna cotta. Damon made it."

Bonnie arched an eyebrow. "He cooks?"

"We're Italian – it's practically a requirement, although sometimes it doesn't always bless the entire family." Damon had suddenly appeared again, Stefan close on his heels. He turned now to his younger brother. "Isn't that right, Stefan?"

The younger Salvatore could only glare at his brother. Bonnie laughed and turned back to the fridge. Caroline watched as a shade of darkness swept over Stefan's face and she gasped. She'd only seen Damon's face riddled with shadows and Stefan's undeniably sweet visage seemed marred by it instead of enhanced, like Damon's darker features. Stefan's gaze flicked quickly to Caroline.

"Temper, brother," Damon chided before hooking an arm over Caroline's shoulder. "He was always moody growing up. I think you got the better brother." He dropped a kiss to her bare shoulder and steered her towards the living room.

* * *

"That's a really pretty scarf."

Stefan Salvatore's voice brought Caroline's attention around from where it was fixated on Damon drying dishes in the kitchen with Elena. She blinked at Stefan and frowned. "What?"

Stefan dazzled her with a smile and gestured towards her. "Your scarf. It's really nice."

She found herself winding her fingers in the ends with a tiny smile. "Thanks. Damon picked it out for me."

For a moment, Stefan looked stunned, and then his green eyes narrowed as he leaned closer. "Really? Can I see it?" He moved to unwind the overhand knot.

"No." Caroline scrambled back in her chair and put distance between herself and the younger Salvatore. She didn't like his sudden interest in her or the gifts that Damon gave her and she put a hand to the scarf as if it would hold it in place even more.

Stefan blinked and leaned forward once again, letting his green gaze hold her. She watched him watching her. The way he looked at her was so close to the way Damon did, but something was off. Something didn't feel right. She felt uncomfortable, prickly, and she shook her head once more. "I'm not taking it off."

"Why not?" Stefan pressed with a resigned frown. He stared harder at her.

She scowled back. "Because I don't _want_ to."

"I just want to see it," he argued gently, trying to make his smile playful. It was anything but.

"And I said 'no'," she snapped.

_Damon's eyes followed Elena's movements around the kitchen as she put away the dishes he'd dried and set about making coffee and tea. Elena intrigued him. He wasn't completely sold on her yet, but he could see the appeal of her. He felt it too, what she was to him: an infuriating, mysterious, captivating young woman wrapped in a beautiful package._

_Exactly the same thing he had thought of Katherine._

_He saw it at dinner: a flash of cold, of power, there in her dark, endless eyes, and then it was gone again behind that breathtaking smile. The similarities between this girl and the one that was made his undead skin crawl and suddenly, he needed to put some distance between him and her. Tuning into the conversation in the family room, he frowned as he listened to Stefan attempt to compel Caroline. He muffled a chuckle. Stefan's power of compulsion was deplorable on the weak willed; on one as stubborn as Caroline it was pretty much impossible. Still, it was amusing to listen to them go back and forth and hear the urgency, the confusion, and the frustration in his little brother's voice._

"_Is Stefan harassing you?" Damon sighed, suddenly in the living room and sliding into the chair behind Caroline's body. He shifted until she sat perched on the edge of the cushion between his legs. He rested his chin on her shoulder and the two of them looked at Stefan expectantly._

"_I was just marvelling at your display of…__**generosity**__," Stefan remarked wryly, smirking at Damon over Caroline's shoulder._

"_Hmmm," Damon replied, sliding the scarf through his fingertips. "When I saw it, I knew it was perfect for her."_

_Stefan's smile grew tight and didn't come close to meeting his eyes. "I'm sure."_

"_Caroline," Damon murmured, keeping his gaze on Stefan, "why don't you go help out in the kitchen?"_

_She turned her head again and shot him a coy look over her shoulder. "I don't do dishes," she answered smartly, turning back to Stefan._

_Damon shifted, glaring at the smirk on his brother's face that read: looks like I'm not the only Salvatore that has problems with compulsion. Damon cleared his throat and reached out, moving Caroline's hair back from her ear and gently caressed her bare shoulder with his fingertips. "Please?" he said as sweetly as he could. "For me?"_

_This time Caroline turned her body towards him and gave him an incredulous look. "Um, __**no**__, I __**don't**__ think so."_

_The hand that had been so casually caressing her shoulder suddenly stopped and tightened on her skin, drawing all of her attention to him. He was silent for a moment, watching the flare of resistance in Caroline's blazing blue eyes. He stared a moment longer, plucked out that nasty little thread, and held it tightly with his gaze. "Go and see if Elena needs help in the kitchen."_

_Her long, thick lashes fluttered and for a moment, he wasn't sure this was going to work at all. Then, a bright smile crossed her face and she stood up. "You know what? I'm going to go see if Elena needs help." But for good measure, she leaned in and placed a soft kiss on the corner of Damon's mouth. Then she was gone and Damon watched her go._

"_She's not a puppet, Damon."_

_Damon narrowed his eyes at Stefan's statement and pursed his lips, amused at what his brother might say next._

_True to his form, Stefan didn't disappoint, and continued. He leaned closer to Damon and dropped his voice to a low register. "She doesn't exist for your amusement; for you to feed on whenever you want to."_

_A smile crept on to Damon's face and he leaned a fraction closer to Stefan, so close now that their noses were almost touching. "See, that's where you're wrong," Damon countered softly. "She's mine. She's __**all**__ mine, to do with whatever I want to."_

* * *

Later, Caroline lay in bed, staring at her ceiling and wondering what she might have done to cause the vacancy beside her. Was it because she had been so stubborn? Probably not – she was _always_ stubborn, and seemed extra mulish with Damon. In fact, she was pretty certain that was one of the reasons he liked her. Well, that and…

_Do you want me to make it hurt, Caroline?_

_She had shuddered and sighed, her hands secured to his headboard by her new scarf, and with his hands gripping her hips he held her up, perched on his thighs. She had nodded, worried her lip, and nodded without hesitation._

She squeezed her eyes shut, pressed her thighs together, and tried to push it all away. But it kept coming back, the darkness and the fear and the desire that they both fed on. She'd sounded so strange to herself, hearing her voice come back in desperate pleas, in tiny gasps of pain, and sobbing, tearful submission.

He was breaking her. The sad thing was that she didn't seem to mind so much. Now someone else knew what she hid – now someone else saw her and flaws all the same and didn't care. The flaws are what drew him, what pushed her towards him. God, she was like one of those pamphlets that the guidance counsellor's office distributed. She was an after-school special cliché: Caroline Forbes, the all-American girl, broken and distorted by the proverbial bad boy. Oh, and he _was_ bad, and she ate it up with a spoon and hung around for seconds, taking whatever scrap he'd throw to her.

Curling onto her side, Caroline faced the window and scrubbed a palm over her face. She checked the clock. It was late. He had dropped her off before midnight. He wouldn't be coming tonight.

So tomorrow, then. Whatever was going to happen would happen tomorrow.


	9. Chapter 9

_A/N: Hello, SuchALittleMonster! Your review made my day – they all do – but I get such a kick out of your amazing writing and I feel really…awesome and inspired by the fact that you think much the same of my own writing!_

_But seriously, I want to take a moment to thank all of you for your reviews, favourites, subscription, etc. Each alert email I get puts a smile on my face (so DamonLover86 made Tuesday so much better) and makes my writing process both an exhilarating – and thought provoking – experience. I love Damon and Caroline together and I have such a great time creating their world and using whatever I want._

_**WARNING: Please humour me and read this;**_

_**This chapter contains blood play that is based around menstruation. If you don't like it, don't read it, but please don't fill my review box with flames. You've been warned.**_

_**Kudos to the first writer to tackle this in a Vampire Diaries fanfiction – you know who you are.**_

* * *

It was dark. Not night time…just…_dark_. She could still see the trees, hear the wind through their branches. She told herself to run and her body sprang forward. Sailing high through the air, her stomach plummeted, and she laughed inside. Her landing was graceful, like a cat, and she shot forward in a sprint. Things around her blurred until nothing but darkness, this time real, velvet night, coloured in with the stars. Her breath puffed out in clouds against the suddenly frigid air. A crow cawed from somewhere deep in the pitch before her.

_He recognized pale halo of blonde hair. He'd know her looking through any eyes and he clutched at the edge of the stone wall as he stilled, cocking his head and watching her. She was almost __**glowing**__ in the moonlight, nothing more than an alabaster blur as she sped through the forest towards him. Her name left his throat in a croak as she appeared. Time stilled, slowing her movements down so it was like she was underwater. Her hair floated about her shoulders in billowing waves and her blue eyes blinked slowly as she slid to a halt and contemplated him._

She'd seen the bird before, down by the grill. Suddenly, it spread its wings and pushed off from the stone wall, each beat of its wings pulling it higher and higher into the air. It cackled down at her again and she laughed at the sound – laughed out loud – and took off running after it, keeping a steady pace while she skipped over fallen trees, rocks, and the streams that crisscrossed the valley that rose up around them. Eventually, the hills fell away and the crow flew further, crawling through the air with swift speed, almost blending into the sky.

She needed to stop.

_Ahead was the edge._

_Stop,_ she told herself. And stop _now_. Out of the blackness came _more_ blackness, this stuff so much darker, and then it was as if someone switched a light on: up ahead, no more than twenty or thirty feet, the ground suddenly dropped away. Caroline knew that she couldn't jump that space. She couldn't see a way around it, either. She forced her feet to slow, to dig in and she made her arms swing back and propel in the opposing direction. The gravel was loose beneath her feet and she slid down, grabbing frantically at anything she could to find purchase. The rocky earth crumbled beneath her hands and tore the flesh of her palms, and the smell of blood was suddenly so strong. She grunted at the pain and tightened her grip and dug her heels further. _Stop_, Caroline.

_So close, Caroline._

She had to stop.

_What will it take?_

"No," she mumbled. Her feet kicked her back but her efforts failed. She felt her legs slide over the side. Her nails tore at the earth and she swung onto her stomach, reaching out for a better grasp on something.

_He perched down in front of her and said her name again, this time in his voice._

Her blue eyes spun wide. _No_, she said, but her voice didn't work.

_He nodded and repeated her name._

She felt herself sliding, ready to fall, and in a last minute effort she squeezed her eyes shut and sucked in a deep breath. _Wake up_, Caroline.

_Caroline!_

Wake _up!_

* * *

She woke with a gasp and lay in the dark stillness surrounding her. For a moment, she panicked in the unfamiliar room but then the mattress shifted beside her and an arm settled over her waist followed by a soothing, half-asleep murmur from Damon.

"S'just a dream, Blondie," he murmured, not bothering to open his eyes. "Go back to…" He trailed off suddenly and then inhaled sharply.

The weight of his arm made her uncomfortable and then she realized it was from cramps. That would mean…oh, god, _no_.

The light flicked on.

"Well, that's an interesting way to get my attention," Damon mused from the bedside.

Caroline sat up and forced herself to look down. Sure enough, Damon's pristine white sheets were stained dark crimson from where it pooled between her thighs. Almost immediately she was flustered, her face burning hotly in embarrassment, and she refused to look Damon's way again. She slid gingerly from the bed and sped to the bathroom, looking for a shred of solace so that she could collect herself and assess the situation. This had never happened to her before – at least, not anywhere else but her own bed. Huddled on the toilet she wiped the worst of the mess aside with toilet paper, willing herself not to cry.

"You're getting awfully emotional over something you have no control over."

She cringed at his light tone but still refused to look at him. "Leave me alone, Damon," she mumbled. "I need a shower."

"Help yourself. Towels are under the sink."

She dared to look up and found herself alone in his bathroom. Her legs shook as she stood and shuffled to the shower, cranking the water on and stepping under the spray. The water spiralling down the drain turned pink and then deeper red as she washed the blood away. Turning her back to the open bathroom, she leaned her forehead against the tile and let herself have a few tears.

When she could no longer hide under the water that had turned cold, she shut the shower off and rummaged for a towel, frowning at the fact that they were all as stark white as his sheets. In her minds eye she went through the contents of her purse which was downstairs behind the couch, trying to remember if she had a tampon, or at the very least a pad to tide her over until she got back to her house. There was no way she could sleep here now.

"Feel any better?"

She gasped at Damon's sudden appearance in the doorway wearing nothing but a smile, and snatched a towel from the cupboard, upsetting the pile in the process. She clutched it to her chest as she hovered on the wet tiles of the shower. "I'm…I'll buy you new sheets," she muttered, wrapping the towel around herself with shaking hands.

Damon's lips curled up halfway and he shook his head gently before taking the ends of the towel from her fingers and tucking them snugly against her breast. "Don't worry about it." His blue eyes softened as he watched her, and the tenderness he was outwardly displaying unnerved her. Brushing past him, she moved back to his bedroom and scrambled in the half shadows for her clothes. Damon took up watch and leaned against the bookcase, watching with amusement.

"Leaving so soon?"

"Obviously," Caroline groused, clutching her clothing to her chest and heading for the door. Damon, of course, beat her to it, and blocked any exit she had hoped to make. With a swift move he plucked the pile of clothes from her arms and tossed it to a nearby chair. "Damon," she sighed, "I just want to go home, okay? I am so unbelievably embarrassed, it's not even funny. I have cramps and I don't think I have anything with me. I'm gonna go out on a limb and guess that with two bachelors living here, there's a short supply of Tampax."

For a moment, his dark brow furrowed. "Well," he said with a small shrug, "Elena stays here pretty often so you may have some luck in Stefan's bathroom."

"Elena's on the pill," Caroline hissed.

That made Damon's eyebrow go up even more. "Wow – really? Does she not realize that we…I mean…vampires can't…"

"Why am I having this conversation with you?" Caroline groaned, becoming more agitated. She bit her lip as she felt a small trickle between her thighs and she was fairly certain it wasn't water from her shower.

Damon chuckled, but as he leaned closer, his eyes grew darker and his nostrils flared again. "Jesus, Caroline," he murmured, looking her up and down, lingering on where the towel barely came down to her mid thigh, "you're gonna bleed out." His gaze heated as she felt the warm trickle down the inside of her thigh, snaking down in what she knew was a path of deep, dark red blood.

She opened her mouth to protest vehemently, but Damon pushed a finger against her lips and then moved her to the bed in one fluid movement. At some point he'd changed the sheets, these as white as the last ones had been, and he tugged the towel from her body as he laid her down and moved to hover between her thighs. She tried to push him off; turned her head away and batted his shoulders with her fists, but he merely shook his head and caught both of her hands in one as he slipped the other between her thighs. She clamped down on it with her leg muscles and squealed in protest. "Damon! Don't! It's not…I don't want…" she shook her head, pleading with him with her eyes, but the more she fought him the bigger his smile became.

_She couldn't have known how absolutely incredible she smelled. He stretched her out beneath him, drawing her hands high above her head and wedging a knee between hers so that her legs fell open. He watched the blush bloom in her cheeks and she turned her face into the pillow, trying to stop the tears that welled in the corners of her eyes. Her obvious distress, coupled with the sweet, warm flow of blood between her thighs was intoxicating. He didn't often partake of such a delicacy but here it was being served up right under his nose. He inhaled again and followed the scent of her down between her thighs where he hummed in delight._

"_Do you have any idea how good you smell to me?" He murmured softly, glancing up to see the bright, shining irises of her dark blue eyes. Her breasts were beautifully swollen, her nipples tight, dusky rose points, and kissed each one briefly, brushing just the tip with his tongue before moving back. Casting his glanced downwards, he marvelled in the enticing curves of Caroline's gently flaring hips and the neatly trimmed triangle of dark, coarse hair that hid the life flowing from her. He rolled his head back over his shoulders and groaned as he breathed deeply again, and then leaned down to kiss the soft, feminine swell just below her navel. "Does it hurt?" he asked, brushing his lips over her delicate skin._

_She shifted beneath him and nodded, clenching her thighs once more. "Please," she whimpered, squeezing her eyes shut as his breath tickled her._

_Before she could argue anymore, his tongue slipped out and sank gently between her folds, gliding along the very tip of her clit, tasting blood and her arousal. Her cocktail was heady, clouding his mind and he licked her again, deeper this time, and her belly tightened as a strangled wail left her lips._

"_I can take care of you," he said solemnly, and even though she remained silent, her thighs opened a fraction wider. He heard her hold her breath. The hand that had been trapped between her thighs roamed freely, and Damon took a chance on touching the bare flesh of her sex, opening her up to him completely._

She was balanced on the edge of a knife. Every brush of his hands and his breath made her that much more aware of everything – of her nakedness, the bleeding between her thighs, and the vampire in the room. Every nerve ending was raw and every touch sent her spiralling that much closer to out of control. Her breath caught in her throat as she wracked her brain, trying to make some sense of the situation. Of course, she shouldn't have been surprised. Damon Salvatore was a vampire, and what better way to consume blood than when it flowed freely without having to bite? Damon would not be deterred.

The first gentle flick of his tongue against her clit tilted her world and brought her focus down to that tiny pinpoint of pressure and pleasure. Her belly clenched in another cramp and she muffled a moan behind pursed lips. When his tongue touched her again, she resigned, and relaxed the muscles of her thighs. He took the invite and reached up to hold her open while the hand that had been holding her hands together let go and slid down so that his palm gently cupped her belly. Turning, he mouthed her soft inner thigh, tonguing the pale skin before opening his jaws wide and sinking his teeth into her. The pain was unreal, burning and blinding at the same time and Caroline twined her fingers into his hair. And then, just as quickly as it had come, it stopped, or rather, was dulled to the point of almost vanishing, and in its place, she felt the warm, broad surface of his tongue lick her from bottom to top.

_She shrieked, and it died in a loud, wanton wail. The grip on his hair ceased, and then tightened slowly, bringing the sting of mounting pleasure with it instead of a tearing shock. The sounds she was making made him painfully hard and he shifted his hips, moaning at the pressure in his balls and the burst of pleasure between his hips. He gathered her hips in his hands and tilted her up, not wanting to spill, and her heels settled onto his back, digging in and pulling him forward at the same time. He didn't partake often, but when he did, there was something about it that just sent his lust into overdrive, and was a heady, warm rush to his system. It made the blood in his veins burn for days after, as warm as any human on a hot summer day, and it burned from the inside out. _

_He could feel it already, setting his skin to a feverish smoulder, and the only thing that would make it better was sweat, but he'd make do. He pulled back, swiped the back of his hand over his lips, and panted for a moment before rolling gracefully behind her, cupping her hip and bringing her thigh up. He hovered at her entrance, just kissing it with the tip of his cock, and then pushing gently at her clit. Caroline sobbed and clutched the sheets, arching violently against him. Beneath his fingers her hips rattled and he felt her struggle. He didn't wait any longer, and before her resolve could crumble he cupped her taut belly once more and stroked his length deep into her tight, soft warmth._

_Stars. Flaming, white hot stars everywhere. She was everywhere, rolling in his veins and quaking sweetly against his lap as he clutched her with his hand, and squeezed slow and sure. A ripple of muscle exploded beneath his fingers as a cramp rolled through her and she tightened and howled. He pushed deeper, upwards now, aligning his hips with the same tilt as hers. Keeping the heel of his palm against her stomach he snaked his forefingers down and was able to just touch the very edge of her._

This wasn't happening. She told herself again and again, but it was becoming difficult to believe while Damon pumped into her gently, his slow pace dragging her closer and closer to the edge of her pleasure. The heat of him was shocking; she'd grown kind of accustomed to his lukewarm presence. After all, they'd create enough friction for the both of them, but now it was that friction tenfold. Between her thighs she felt like she was melting, and the pain was dissolving with it. His chest was pressed warm and tight against her back. One hand anchored on her belly while the other slipped between her side and the mattress to splay on her chest before moving to cup her breast gently. When he flickered his warm tongue against her ear, she felt another quiver in her belly. When he tugged at her over-sensitive nipples she hissed and bit her lips to hold back the moan. He moved again and her eyes crossed. He felt _huge_ inside of her, because of the tightness in her cramping muscles, but he didn't drill into her like he was prone to do so – not that she was complaining. No, now he rocked gently, shifting his hips against hers and swinging her back with ease. He panted against her and set a steady pace.

She gasped hot words, telling him how warm he was, how good he felt, and he moaned in agreement before whispering the same things, digging his hips a little harder and pulling her back against him with her belly. She quivered around him again, this one sending shocks of pleasure through her. "I'm gonna come," she whimpered, her breath hitching softly, almost afraid. Oh god, this couldn't feel this good; she shouldn't be feeling this! She needed to come so badly and she worked her hips while he panted dirty things behind her. She'd never, ever done anything like this before and she felt that she probably wouldn't ever do it again. All at once, Damon made her feel dirty and wanted, practically _craved_. She saw the look in his eye, the same as any man getting a piece of pussy. But because he was a vampire it was that much more…unnerving. He could make her smoulder and scream, sighing sweetly through unexplainable head and the sugar and salt of pain. Now she stepped to the edge of her climax, the gaping, blinding finish that she had never found before. With a gasp her hand slammed down on Damon's wrists, gripping him, holding him to her.

_He __**melted**__ at the feel of her hands like steel on his wrists. Like he was going anywhere at this point. She was like…like wet, warm velvet, despite the tightness that was slowly strangling him. It felt so good. Too good. This was most definitely not a good thing. _

_This was fucking _

**AMAZING**.

_He gasped as her thoughts suddenly rattled through him. Her quivering muscles swiftly clamped down on him and he muffled a sharp cry in her hair. She was taking him along with her and even though he didn't want to end it so soon, it felt too good to back off. He changed his technique again and plunged up shallowly with sudden bursts. Her hand settled over his, her fingers tracing against his, and then tangling them aside so that she could touch her own clit. He let her take over. His own fingers slid down over hers, adding pressure to her custom movements. He needed her to come. The sight of Caroline absolutely disintegrating so gracefully beneath him…over him…in front of him...was burned in his brain. Her breath hitched; his own eyes squeezed shut at the sound as his balls clenched tightly at the sound. "Oh, god, come." He gulped another breath. "Come for me, Caroline." _

On the fourth pass she exploded, the sound of her name from his lips shattering her. Thick warmth and pleasure flowed through her, and her toes curled as she suddenly reached behind her and clutched his buttock, yanking him deep and close. Her fingertips slid back and forth with blinding speed as she splintered hotly around him.

_On the sixth pass he followed, spiralling into pleasure right behind her, plundering her tight hotness, fucking her with deadly precision as his fingers left her fluttering belly. Snaring a fistful of pale blonde curls he arched her head back and plundered her, riding the last spikes of his orgasm in lusty delirium. _

_He was so __**fucked**__. He'd gone and broke one of his own rules – don't, for any reason, get involved. But he was in way over his head. Clutching Caroline's body to his chest he got her up the stairs at her house and into her bedroom. Liz, it appeared, was working nights again, so he didn't have to be stealthy. Instead, he set Caroline on her bed for a moment, curled on her side, and busied himself drawing a bath for her._

_Five minutes later he was sitting on the corner of her bed, listening to the soft sounds of water lapping against her supple skin as she washed. This had gone too far, this attachment to Caroline. He was in danger of losing his focus – he'd grown accustomed to her blood and her play. Each time he saw Elena, or heard her in the house talking to Stefan, he was reminded of Katherine and then his nights would be haunted with images of the blonde and the two brunettes. Sometimes Caroline would kill him; sometimes he'd be making love to Elena. Sometimes he'd kill Katherine._

_Lately, though, as in the last three nights? Every single image had been of Caroline. It had been three weeks since he'd breezed into town – far too long. He had to get moving; the night of the comet was fast approaching and he had yet to find a witch – although the little slip of a Bennett girl had intrigued him immensely and he had a nagging suspicion that he wouldn't have to look much farther. He didn't actually need Caroline for much longer, not for the greater purpose of his return._

_A distraction. That's what she was. He figured, however, that she had at least one more purpose to fill. Then he could be rid of her and get back on track. _

_The bathroom door opened and he looked up as a rush of steam and heat billowed into the room, carrying the scent of Caroline with it. She danced from foot to foot, dressed in soft cut off sweats and a t shirt. Her damp hair was pulled up from her scrubbed face, and dark blond curls clung to her neck._

_He stood suddenly, and gestured to the bed. "Let's get you to bed," he muttered, watching as Caroline curled cautiously under the covers and watched him with a sleepy expression. "You're going to sleep in tomorrow," he said, crouching down to eye level with her and brushing her damp bangs from her eyes._

_She closed her eyes and shook her head slowly. "Can't. I told Mrs. Lockwood that I'd bring by my great, great grandfather's sheriff's badge for the Founder's Ball. I told her I was coming by at nine."_

_He pursed his lips as she argued and he checked his watch. "That's in six hours," Damon frowned. The last thing he needed was her ass collapsing on him at a crucial moment. "All right – Hey! Open your eyes, I'm not done yet."_

"_Damon, I'm __**tired**__," Caroline whined sharply, but she forced her eyes open once more. "What?"_

_Damon moved closer, staring at her lips for a moment. Then his blue eyes flicked to hers and he spoke softly. "You're going to sleep soundly until seven thirty and when you wake up, you'll feel perfectly fine."_

_She hummed at the prospect and seemed to heed his request, but at the last second, her blue eyes flared open. "I want some of your blood."_

_He froze and gave her a confused smile. "What?"_

_A flirty smile broke out on her face, one full of mischief. "I want some of your blood," she said again, as if she were asking to borrow his copy of Lost Season One. "It totally worked last time. Besides," she added quickly, her voice growing soft as she looked away. "You had some of mine," she rationalized, blushing furiously._

_Of course. He could do her that favour, couldn't he?_


	10. Chapter 10

_A/N: Never too many thanks to each and every one of you. I'm running out to yoga, don't have a lot of time, but just skimmed nine pages and went…I'm going to post my next chapter with the first six pages. So here it is – seriously, I didn't even have time to proofread it. I apologize in advance for any errors._

* * *

She heard the door slam and she shot up in bed like a rocket, clasping the blankets to her chest and blinking wildly about the room. A second later she heard the growl of her mother's four by four, gearing up and then backing out onto Emerson Place. Then came the soft murmur beside her, deeply content. Satisfied, even. A hand settled on her hip and she sucked another quick breath, settling only when she recognized the unmistakeable features of Damon's face.

This in turn caused her to panic even more and she scrambled out of the bed, stumbling backwards onto her feet with a tiny gasp. He had only spent the night here once, and that was the night they first met. Lately she'd been the one sneaking away from 112 Wickery Road – the Salvatore Mansion – for the last…the last…how long?

Her eyes flicked to her calendar and then widened. Shit! Today was the seventeenth! How could she have forgotten her meeting with Carol Lockwood? She sprang from the bed, cursing as she went.

_Damon frowned as his deafening rest was broken with the sounds of Caroline flitting about her bedroom. He dared crack an eye open and saw, with a grin, her naked ass as she fled from the room and barrelled into the bathroom, cranking on the hot water. With a sigh, he rolled over and dug deep into her pillows until he was comfortable. Then he closed his eyes and chased sleep once more._

_His eyes snapped open seconds later. She was meeting Carol Lockwood – they mayor's wife – today, because of the Founder's Party. Last night, Caroline had mentioned something about her great, great grandfather's badge, and suddenly, the pieces fit together: The Founder's Party would be displaying artefacts from the founding families. This was it – Bree had mentioned something about an amulet among the population of Mystic Falls being one of the keys to help open the tomb. This was almost too perfect. _

_Caroline eventually came back from the bathroom, a little flushed, but otherwise looking quite tasty. She'd let her hair wave again and had opted for a cute turquoise bra and panty set, edged in chocolate colored lace. He watched her move about the room and he hummed lowly in content. Watching Caroline get dressed was almost as exciting as watching her get naked. Piece by piece, lace, cotton, silk and wool, she layered the smooth curves and soft skin with the cover of cheerleading and bake sales and school dances_

_Underneath it, though, she could be corrupted. The dream from earlier that morning said enough: he had brought her to the brink of everything and she would fight him every step of the way in his attempts to pull her all the way down. He'd slipped into her dream after he let her fuck his brains out – tequila, he had discovered, was a magical elixir that made Caroline a total slut so he'd let her have her fun. When he'd roamed into her subconscious later, he'd been surprised at how he'd found her: Caroline wasn't quite…Caroline, but rather some shadowy spark of herself. He'd watched her move – more like a vampire than a pot smoking cheerleader – and that had unnerved him._

"You can't be here when my mom gets home, you know," she said as she struggled with her wedge heeled sandals and shoved her belongings into a purse. Damon barely cracked an eye to acknowledge her and Caroline sighed and snatched his clothes from the floor. She heaved the pile at him and smirked when he became a flurry of limbs and FCUK. He yanked his shirt off of his head and pouted, and she couldn't help the fluttery feeling in her stomach as he glowered at her, his dark hair fluffed wildly about his head.

"_Brat," he growled, pulling his shirt over his head. He had been enjoying his rest, all warm and content. Caroline's blood was up because of her tiny taste of him last night, and he mused at how well she handled his blood. She wasn't hyper or annoying – no, she was calm, and coy, and bold. She giggled, trying to sneak past his reach as she went for the door but he growled and pounced, landing her on the bed beneath him. "I'll be out of here before your mom gets home," he promised in a low voice before he dipped his head and touched his lips briefly to hers. "Now be a good girl at Mrs. Lockwood's and I'll come by here at eight."_

"_What happens at eight?"_

_Damon growled. Always too many questions. "Don't argue. Just do."_

_Caroline sighed. "Fine. But you better have something fun planned."_

_Damon growled and rolled off, sliding his pants on before cocking his eyebrow at her. "Fun is my middle name."_

"_I thought it was Lorenzo." She sprung from the bed and collected her purse again._

_Damon frowned and pointed a finger at her. "Don't snoop through my shit," he snapped._

"_Don't leave me alone for hours at a time," she countered, referring to the numerous times she'd woken at his place to find his bed empty, and it would stay that way even as she left for school._

"_Caroline, I can't very well put my evil plan into place if I spend every night cuddling you," he pointed out. God, she was getting clingy __**and**__ he was running out of time. "It's next Saturday, right?" he ventured, slipping out of her bedroom so she could close the door behind them. Together, they started for the stairs._

"_The one after," Caroline corrected as she scooped up a small, brown leather cased that contained what Damon assumed was the sheriff's badge._

_He followed her out of the house and then walked her to her car. She pressed a quick peck to his lips. "Mmm," she smiled. "Kay, text me!" Then she danced away and was in her car, pulling out of the driveway before Damon could even register._

_He'd walked her to her car._

_She'd kissed him like they were sweethearts, something more intimate than he wanted to admit._

_And __**then**__ she'd ordered him to text her._

"_I don't text!" he barked at her taillights, swearing as she tore down the street and left him in the dust. "Porca l'oca!" he muttered, digging his car keys out of his pocket. He tore out of the drive as well, and aimed his car in the opposite direction, cursing as his eyes flicked to the rear-view mirror, catching a last glimpse of her taillights. _

* * *

Of course, Tyler had to be the one to answer the door. At first he's breezy, trying to be cool, and then he realises that it's Caroline on the other side. His smirk freezes and then melts from playful to something that bordered on…well…_wolfish_. It made her shiver. She wasn't sure, however, if it was in a good or bad way.

"Forbes," he growled smoothly, raking burning black eyes over her, top to tail. He licked his lips and nodded his head towards her. "You selling?"

"Fuck you, Tyler," Caroline sneered. "You hung me out to dry. I can't believe how big a prick you've been lately." It was the truth – she and Tyler had known each other practically forever. From the time of the founding families, the Lockwoods and the Forbeses had always been close. Tyler had always been tolerable, but since their senior year had started, he'd become so…shitty. It hurt Caroline, and she wasn't ashamed to show it.

"Whatever, it doesn't look like you're suffering," he muttered, signing and trying to look bored. "So, you're here to see my mom, right?"

On the inside, Caroline sighed sadly. She heard a trace of the old Tyler – sweet and caring – in his question. Taking a deep breath, she stood straight and nodded. "Yes. I have my grandfather's badge here," and she moved to take it out of her bag.

"Cool," Tyler shrugged, backing away and gesturing for her to step in.

Breezing past him, she paused very slightly as she heared him inhaling slow and deep as she passed. Like he was breathing her in.

Damon did that all the time.

Was Tyler a…She heard the door close behind her and felt the blazing heat of Tyler as he brushed behind her. No….No, Tyler was most certainly _not_ a vampire. But he was something. "I'll go see where she is." He stared at her for a moment, trapping her with his black gaze.

She froze. Then, Caroline nodded and watched as he disappeared around the corner to the kitchen. When he'd vanished she exhaled, not realizing that she'd been holding her breath. Tyler reappeared a moment later. "She's just on the phone. Maybe ten minutes? It's a call regarding the party…"

"Sure," Caroline shrugged, raising her eyebrows expectantly.

"Um, here, you can wait in the living room with me. I was just watching a bit of TV."

"Okay," she answered softly, and she followed him down the hall.

The Lockwood living room was a wide open space with vaulted, beamed ceilings and contemporary, rugged furniture. This was obviously the 'man's space' she'd heard about but never really experienced. She settled next to Tyler on the couch who grabbed the remote and started flipping channels. "So, you're coming to the Founder's Party?"

"Yep," Caroline answered, hating the awkwardness of the situation.

"You bringing a date?"

"Uh…no. I don't think so." She wanted to say Damon, but even she knew that she wouldn't take him, not with the off chance of her mother being there – especially if they knew each other. "You?"

"Maybe," Tyler smirked.

Right. Tyler Lockwood always had a date.

"Can I see the badge?"

"Hmm?" Caroline turned and found Tyler watching her with interest.

He smiled and it lit up his face. Caroline's insides warmed and she couldn't help but smile back. "Your grandfather's badge," Tyler continued, gesturing to her purse. "The one you're loaning for the Founder's Party?"

"Oh, right. Ummm," she dug into her purse for a moment. "Here," she said, handing over the brown leather case.

Tyler cracked it open and chuckled.

Confused, Caroline scowled. "What?" She said, reaching to snatch it back.

Tyler smiled and turned it around. "They're actually _stars_," he murmured. "Like in all the westerns. That's awesome." He turned it around and looked at it again. "Mom's displaying the first mayoral _desk_," he added with wink. "You get points for cool for the sheriff's badge, Forbes."

"I didn't think I had to keep score with you," she said, lifting it from his hands and snapping it shut before standing up.

She turned away but she was yanked back by a hard hand on her elbow. "I'm sorry," he said gruffly, pulling her back to face him. "Lately I've been…"

"Caroline! Thank you so much for coming," Carol Lockwood greeted as she came into the room. She paused briefly, her green eyes scanning where her son gripped the sheriff's daughter.

Tyler let go like Caroline had burned him and Caroline took a breath and held out the leather case with the badge. "No problem, Mrs. Lockwood."

Mrs. Lockwood smiled again, flicking her gaze from Caroline, to Tyler, and back to Caroline. "Tell your mother that I'll bring it by her office the day after the party."

"Okay."

Tyler was silent.

"Well," Mrs. Lockwood finally segued. "It was nice seeing you again, Caroline. Tyler, did you want to see her out?""

He shrugged, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "Sure, I guess."

Mrs. Lockwood smiled tightly again and left, heading back through the kitchen. Caroline shouldered her purse and took off towards the front door.

"Hey, Forb – Care, wait up." Tyler jogged after her.

"What," she exclaimed tiredly as she turned back to him.

"I've…my dad's been giving me a rough time, lately. With football and everything. Sorry if I've been a dick."

Caroline gave him a half smile and felt a little bad for him. And, he was throwing in that kicked puppy look that he did so well and made her guts go _awwww!_ "It's okay," she said smartly, with a nod. "Just try…not being a dick so much." Her grin got a little bigger.

Tyler chuckled and nodded. "Okay. But…I've gotta ask…" and he moved towards her with a bold step.

She backed away on instinct until she felt the doorknob in her back. "Umm…ask what?" she breathed, suddenly very aware of the scant space between them. She threw a curious eyebrow up at him. "Tyler, what the hell are you doing?"

He grinned and tilted his head, staring at her mouth for a moment. "Just…tell me the truth..."

"Truth about what?" she gasped, trying to sink right through the door and further away from him. Her eyes squeezed shut as his hips collided with her clumsily and then pulled back.

"Are you _sure_ you're not selling? Because if you are, can you hook me up with an eighth?"

Her eyes flashed open and with a grunt she punched him in the liver. He coughed, surprised, and backed away, an amused smirk plastered on his face. "Holy shit, Forbes, what the hell?"

"You're an asshole," she growled, wrenching open the door and breezing out. She didn't bother looking back – she hadn't heard the door slam behind her, and she knew that Tyler was glaring at her as she receded down the driveway.

And she'd let him kiss her in the fifth grade with tongue and everything.

_Asshole_.

_

* * *

_

The kill was exhilarating.

_He'd tracked her from the grocery store to her car, and then raced through the woods beside the winding road, keeping pace with the glare of her headlights as she sped through the night. At Wickery Bridge she signalled to turn left, down to Dover's Green, but he didn't feel like chasing her down to the tiny little township. Instead he took the opportunity when she came to a full stop at the stop sign, instead of blazing through like most of the other motorists on this road. Thank goodness for careful drivers._

_She hadn't seen it coming._

_He'd chosen her solely for her convenience. He wasn't looking for sex and blood – he had that all to himself back in Mystic Falls. No, right now he was looking for a kill, to feel the exuberance of being a vampire and fulfill his most basic instinct. Caroline was making him soft in every other way except one._

_The victim's blood was sweet and heavy, telling her age to be somewhere between fifty and sixty, glowing amber in the early autumn of life,, nothing like the fresh salt and sweet of Caroline's young blood. Her hair was silver, no where near the memory of chestnut waves or blonde curls. He didn't bother compelling her and instead tore into her vein within seconds. She hadn't even had time to scream. The only sound she made was a gurgling choke as her windpipe was crushed to bits in Damon's jaws. Her blood squelched out and slid over his tongue, his teeth, staining his mouth red and gliding down his chin and his throat to soak into the collar of his shirt. Within moments she was drained and dead and Damon dropped the body next to the car._

_His skin was electrified with the kill and he tingled as the air brushed over his skin. He ran fast, blurring through the shadows and coming to the boarding house almost as quickly as he had thought of it. He stopped at the back entrance, the servants' entrance, and paused. No, he wasn't ready to turn in just yet. That little game of catch-and-kill had left him painfully hard in his pants; his fangs still stung as they cut up and down through his gums, a reaction to the fresh blood and heat of the hunt. He needed something more. Something extra._

_And he knew just the bit of blonde to give it to him._

_Besides, it was about time he showed Caroline just how much of a monster he could be._

* * *

The front door crashed open, startling Caroline out of her TV induced haze. She was on her feet seconds later, just in time to turn and watch Damon Salvatore prowl into the living room.

"Caroline," he sang, his eyes finding her instantly. His lips curved up, but it was more of a grimace than anything. He looked…_off_. More so than usual. In fact, he looked down right deranged, if she had to put a title on it. His dark hair was mussed; his pale, flawless skin was flushed and his lips were red, all signs that he had been feeding. A streak of jealous possessiveness ran through Caroline – who had he been with?

Then she focused on his eyes and took a wary step back at what she saw. Damon's eyes were the most expressive thing about him, more so than any word or any gesture from him. Normally, they were bright blue, exploding in the darkness, ranging with emotions from playfulness to deviance but right now…now they were black. Burning. _Hot_. A tiny gasp escaped her and she could hear her heart beat rattling behind her ribs.

Damon stopped and cocked his head. Apparently, he could hear it too. The grimace widened and he closed the distance between them in the blink of an eye, already grabbing her wrists with one hand and hauling her body against his.

"I'm going to chase you," he murmured darkly.

Her eyebrow crept up in disbelief. "Excuse me?" she asked vapidly. Then she scowled. "You want to _chase_ me," she said. "Okay, weird. I've done some kinky shit with you, Salvatore, but if you think I'm going to let you _chase_ me…like…what the fuck? Can I at least change into my trainers?"

Damon seethed. His fingers clamped down on her upper arms and he snapped her forward, hearing her teeth click as he brought her to a stop an inch from his nose. "No." The air was eerily still around them and Caroline whimpered softly as his face changed, bursting with sick darkness and the thing that he was. Frozen to the spot she could only stare helplessly as his blue eyes flooded with blackness.

"Are you going to kill me?" she asked softly, shocked numb with the speed at which her memories had just flown through her head.

"Hmmm," he growled with contemplation. "Not today," he offered in a serene tone.

"Oh…oh kay," Caroline nodded, feeling herself smile as Damon nodded and smiled with her.

And then…oh, and then his head stopped nodding and began to shake from side to side as his humour dissipated. "Caroline," he said in breathless whisper.

_Her heart, thundering so restlessly before, suddenly seized. Her blood stopped sloshing through her veins. She had stilled again, wide eyed in his gaze, and even though he wasn't compelling her, he'd never seen her react to him like this before. He had finally got through to her._

"_**Run**__."_

_

* * *

_

_'Porca l'oca' is Italian for 'God Damn!'_

_I need to ask you guys: there's a secret lemon in my vamp diaries fic folder for my word processor. It was the alternate to Chapter 9. Is there anyone who might be interested in reading it? It's just as citrusy as Chapter 9 and just as hot - a rival, in my opinion, to it. Let me know if you'd like to read it... ;)_


	11. Chapter 11

_A/N: Wow, the number of reviews for this story is the highest I've ever gotten! Thank you to everyone for reading, reviewing, favourting, etc. I'm ecstatic that this has gotten such a great response. We're taking a turn to the dark side, my readers, as all good things must come to an end. Don't worry, there will still be lemons, but there isn't one here as of yet because hey, I've posted two back to back – for those of you that haven't found it or checked it out, my one shot 'Like, in the back of a Volkswagen?' is my alternate to chapter nine of this tale. You should check it out if you haven't!_

_So where was I? Oh yes, a turn to the darker side of things. Vampires are dark creatures and sometimes I think we concentrate too much on…yep, you guessed it, the man Damon could be for Elena. Shame on her for trying to change him. I like him dark and scary. Here he is for you: not so nice, and conflicted as ever._

* * *

One time, when she was about six or seven, she'd gone out into the woods at night, alone. She'd _had_ to do it: the only way she could hang out with Tyler and Matt was if she crossed through Parson's Wood, from east to west (the longest stretch) with nothing more than a headlamp. Now, the rumour was that Parson's Wood was haunted by the souls of the witches that had been burned there in the middle of the nineteenth century. Tyler boasted that there was nothing there but the look on Matt's face had said something else entirely. The night she was supposed to make the journey Matt caught up with her on Miller Road on her way to cross the Wickery Bridge. He'd told her to not look back, no matter what she heard, and to move as quickly as she could. Matt himself had crossed the band of thick, gnarled trees, fallen and otherwise twisted, in less than thirty minutes.

Of course, Matt hadn't gotten _lost_. Caroline had fallen, not ten minutes into her trek, and had tumbled down a gentle slope into what might have been a clearing at one point, but was now so thick and overgrown with blackberry shrub and nettle that she had barely enough room to get to her knees and wiggle back out. She had gotten turned around and now she froze, spinning in all directions with wide eyes, trying to make sense of something. That was when she heard it. At first, she couldn't quite make it out and she shifted in the dry leaves and twigs at her feet, the last of her breath leaving her in a panicked squeak. There was nothing – no wind through the trees, no in and out of the young girl's breath. And then:

"_CAR-o-LINE!"_

At least, that's what it sounded like to _her_ – it sounded like something screeching her name with a voice that wasn't quite human. It almost _croaked_ at her and she muffled a whimper and closed her eyes, praying that she wouldn't hear it again.

To her dismay, she heard her name again, as softly as Bonnie might murmur it late at night at a slumber party. It was barely a whisper, but it was there: _"Caroline."_

Her heart had begun to thump wildly and the silence now was deafening and the all of a sudden something burst forward from the trees, cackling and swooping down, fluttering, screaming, CARE!-oline CARE!-oline. Like a frightened deer she turned and ran, skittering through the bushes that caught her clothes and her hair and scraped her cheeks. She'd had to shrug out of her sweater because it hung her up and after another savage round of her skin versus the thornbush she was free, her lungs alight as she ran as hard and as fast as she could, and she didn't look back, just like Matt had told her not too. Up ahead she saw the faint points of light, the edge of the Lockwood property, and she sped up until she at last cleared the trees and ran wailing up the back lawn, through Mrs. Lockwood's pecan trees and SMACK! Into Matt and Tyler.

"It chased me," she gasped, turning back and watching the darkness between the trees at the far end of the lawn. She raised a finger and pointed, waiting breathless for the thing that had chased her.

Out of the darkness it came, swooping on great black wings, its beak gleaming like a knife in the moonlight. It cawed once and swooped low, making Caroline shriek and drop to her knees and cover her head. She heard Tyler's laughter start, and Matt's soon followed, and while at first her heart still hammered in her chest and she was genuinely scared, after a moment she, too, couldn't help but start to giggle.

* * *

She heard him chuckle behind her.

Skidding to a halt, she dove behind a broad oak tree and forced herself into stillness. The tiny breaths that did thread in and out of her nose were as loud as jet engines and so she squeezed her eyes shut hoping that somehow it would silence her. With her teeth dug into her tongue, she froze her joints and waited.

_He knew exactly where she was, of course, could smell her fear and her perfume on the air, could hear the rapid roll of her heartbeat. He'd know the sound anywhere and had heard it in a multitude of situations – happiness, elation, love, hate, anger, depression, excitement… The taste he'd had the night before had been nothing; a cold reminder that it was bagged blood when he could be having something much more satisfying._

_He changed his tactic. Turning back towards the Salvatore mansion, he double backed and came at her from the south, watching as she looked left, and then right, and then bolted through the trees, right towards the river and right towards him. Now it was his turn to slip behind the tree as she came closer. He heard her heaving breath first, followed by the scent of clean sweat and her shampoo. She crashed through the leaves in a rush of air and shadowed tresses. Her scent curled around him as she passed and he closed his eyes, breathing deeply and moaning at the sweetness of her. She was bleeding. She must have stumbled, scraped her knee or her palm, and it was flowing freely over her skin, mingling with the dirt and leaves. Such a waste, he decided, circling the tree and bounding after her._

Her knee stung where it had collided with a stump, and she was pretty sure she was sporting a major gash. The cool trickle of blood slid down her leg and turned the denim dark and damp. It shocked her into realization: she didn't have a chance of getting away. Suddenly, she jerked ramrod straight and her eyes went wide as the hair on the back of head lifted. _Don't stop!_ her brain screamed, and she stumbled forward, her feet twisting awkwardly before she launched into a sprint, clipping through the trees.

_He'd been close. He'd been right on top of her, watching as she stopped and seemed to wage an inner war with her conscience_.

_He would watch. He would wait. And he would take. But not right yet. No, she still had some wit about her, she wasn't nearly __**scared**__ enough. After all, if he was going to do this, he might as well go all the way, right? Sure enough, she took off like a startled hare and bounded into the shadows and wet earth closer to the creek._

_Now she was anxious. She'd never reacted like that before, not with him, and the sudden burst of fear was thick in her throat. Lead was in her bones; her joints ached and her lungs were on fire, but she couldn't stop. The adrenaline coursed through her, made her limbs move when she didn't think she'd be able to. Her eyes blurred from the wind, and she blinked back the tears and dodged to the left, into a copse of pecan trees. She'd barely made it three steps when she collided with a solid wall that reached for her. A scream tore from her lips and her toes churned the turf as she tried to turn, but he caught her in an iron strong hold._

_Her whimper trickled up to his ear and he tilted his head back with a sigh as the delightful sound surged through him. He gently brushed her hair from her neck even as she struggled and he shushed her, muttering soothing words. Her blood was pumping furiously in her veins, scattering her scent along her heated flesh. His fingers sank into the skin of her hips as her jacket and shirt rode up, and when she jerked in his arms, he pressed his nose against her throat for a split second, inhaling deeply. With a quick move he twisted them, and pushed her against a tree._

Her back collided with the bark and it snagged her through her sweater, scraping up her back. She arched away from the tree and into him and as she did he swooped down and plunged his fangs into her neck. The pain was hot, searing her like it did the first time, and then the numb ache of her blood being siphoned from her body fizzled any other thought. A moan ripped through her, somewhere between pleasure and pain, and her hips rocked into his. His lips were insistent and his tongue pressed against the bite when the flow of blood slowed. Catching her under the ribs he pressed her back, holding her steady as he drank.

_Her blood was bourbon on his tongue, coating and warming his mouth, sticky and burning sweetly. It made his gums ache and his jaw quiver. He growled against her skin and she gasped, breathlessly, and snared his hair with her fingers. Once more he dove into her, this time opening his jaw over the taut swell of her breast. There, he sliced through tender flesh, sweet and rich, and drank the blood that welled up from the wound. She was warm and thick as she slid down his throat._

_She was __**his**__ as she slid down his throat and he tasted everything that course through her veins. Fear, mixed with anger, garnished with confusion made a heady mix and Damon lapped it all up, greedy, swallowing more and more until finally Caroline's pulse was nothing more than the faint beat of butterfly wings and her fingers numbly clutched his leather jacket at the shoulders. Her heartbeat echoed softly, fading, and only when it threaded to almost nothing did Damon pull back with a snarl and stare down at the girl in his arms._

_She's no good to you dead._

_He growled and shook his head, blood spraying from his clenched jaw. He had to __**stop**__. But the draw of it, the feel of hovering on the kill was making it so difficult – another growl, this one louder and more feral, ripped the night in two and he shoved Caroline away so that she slid down the tree and landed with a thud on the forest floor. He howled, sent his fists into the trunk and splintered bark. Always – __**always**__ – the beast was tamped down, tamed, taken over by that glimmer of humanity that Damon tiptoed along. The beast growled and retreated, still trembling violently beneath his skin._

_He had to get her home, and now. If the sheriff's daughter died, he'd have more on his hands than he could deal with. The beast was sulking in the shadows for now, and his head cleared. His gums ached and itched terribly, burning with blood fever and where her blood was already drying on his skin in pulled and wafted up sharp and rusted. He __**ached**__ to tear into her, to finish her, to consume her wholly, for good and everlong._

_A soft, whimpering sigh drifted up from his feet and he glanced down to see Caroline's fingers curling gently, her head softly moving from side to side. Right, then. Kill the girl when the plan is complete. She was nothing as he picked her up in his arms, little more than limp, damp skin and dirt and leaves. Brushing her off as best he could, he then sped into the night._

_Oh, he had a mind to kill her, all right. But she was no good to him __**dead**__. At least, not yet._

* * *

When she opened her eyes, she noticed two things. First of all, the digital numbers on the alarm clock were all wrong. Her alarm clock was red. These numbers were green. Secondly, her neck was screaming in agony, aching and burning and making her head feel like a ton of bricks.

And then she noticed the smell.

There was blood everywhere; she could feel it under her fingernails and in her hair. She knew it was blood; she didn't have to see it to confirm that it was blood that made her blonde curls rusty and brittle; she didn't have to see it to know that was what made the stale, copper scented air sting her throat as she breathed. The skin on her neck was torn and bruised.

She felt the mattress shift and heard the rustle of sheets beside her. Then, cool breath washed over the skin of her shoulder as he rolled on top of her, pinning her to the mattress with his knees on her arms. She was naked beneath him, and he was naked, too, as he rose up on his knees and tore into his wrist.

His fingers were like iron and icy, gripping her jaw and holding it open and steady as his bloody, shredded wrist hovered above. Blood dripped freely from the wound, falling down on her tongue and flooding the back of her throat, making her choke. She surged up and tried to push him off, but her weak movements only served to make him chuckle and tighten the grip on her jaw. The bones creaked together under the pressure and Caroline's vision blurred and turned white hot with the pain. Blood spattered and sprayed from her gurgling throat. Still smirking above her, Damon shushed her, murmuring soothing words.

"If you fight me and die, you'll turn into a vampire, Caroline," he purred delicately.

Her body went rigid. Damon's smiled vanished and he nodded solemnly. Next, he leaned close, and nose to nose with her he spoke softly, his words puffing lifelessly on her lips.

"Swallow. Sleep. Forget this."

Oh, it sounded so easy. So easy to just stop the fight and accept the blood that would make the pain go away. Her muscles ached everywhere; her arms were going numb from where Damon's knees were pressed in. The room spun around her. The blood in the back of her throat was warm now, and sticky, and so dark with Damon and whatever made him.

"Don't fight. Just do it," he murmured gently.

So she obeyed him. The hand on her jaw released; her blood, and now his, rushed through her veins and spun into her numb fingers and arms with sting and speed. She heard him murmur _swallow_, and she gulped down another mouthful, and then one more, just to be sure. He said _sleep_, and her eyes fluttered in the shadows that were narrowing her vision.

She blinked and the numbers turned red.

_Forget this_.

* * *

"Caroline, I'm not telling you again. Get up and get to school – I have to be at the station by nine."

Her mother's voice growled outside the door and while Caroline heard it, she made little show of acknowledging other than the middle finger she stuck out of the blankets and waved in the general direction of the door.

Her mother's fist hammered on the door. "Caroline!"

"I'm UP!" Caroline barked back from under the blankets. "Just…go to work and…file some reports. I'll get to school," she finished, her voice croaking at the end. She was parched. She tried to push herself up with her arms but found the strength sapped – a good thing. Her head felt like a balloon. Burrowing further under the blankets she closed her eyes and listened for the sound of her mother's four by four pulling out of the driveway.

Somewhere, she heard Damon say _sleep_, and she smiled. What a wonderful idea.

* * *

The phone woke her. For a minute, she did nothing more than listen to it chirp, and the vibrate, indicating a new message. She waited a little bit longer, and then it started ringing again. Her hand snuck out of her nest of blankets and snared the annoying piece of technology and frowned at the caller ID. She didn't recognize the number.

"Hello?" she answered hesitantly.

"Hey, it's Elena. I'm calling from Stefan's phone."

"Why?" Caroline growled.

"Because I've been trying to call you all morning – I figured you were screening calls so I used Stefan's phone."

"Hold on." Caroline held the phone out and thumbed through her recent call list. Sure enough, there they were: seven missed calls from Elena and four from Bonnie, along with a handful of text messages all asking after her. "Yeah," Caroline said, coming back to Elena. She rolled on her back and stretched. "I felt awful this morning," she began slowly, working her arms hands. Now, she didn't too badly. "I think it was a migraine. What did I miss?"

She hear Elena speaking in a hushed tone to someone else and then she came back on the line. "Are you sure? I mean...did you take an aspirin at least?"

"No," Caroline yawned, reaching and rubbing her fingertips over her neck. The flesh there tingled, almost burned, but the sensation was not wholly unpleasant. She sat up and glanced about the room.

"There was a quiz in math class," Elena informed.

"Think Robson will let me make it up?"

Elena snickered on the other end of the phone. "Probably not."

Caroline stood and made her way to the bathroom, listening to Elena's chatter with half an ear. As she rounded the end of the bed, she stopped, frowning at the muddy footprints there. Looking further along, there was a trail of them, along with pieces of her discarded wardrobe on the way to the bathroom. She picked up her sweater and then snagged her jeans from the floor, suddenly gasping at the jagged hole torn in the knee, soaked through with black mud and blood.

"Caroline?"

"I have to go," she mumbled, thumbing the 'end call' button and turning back to her jeans. "What the hell…" she muttered, stumbling after the footprints. There, on the threshold of the bathroom were her muddy trainers. The bathroom was a complete mess. The towels had all been yanked from the racks, all soiled with blood and sand and leaves. The bottom of the bathtub faired no better, a drying streak of mud and more leaves coating the bottom in an arrow that pointed to the drain.

Suddenly, she noticed that she was shaking, and then she noticed she wasn't breathing. She heaved a gasping breath and dropped her clothes and her phone to the floor with a clatter. Whirling, she spun to the mirror and clutched the marble counter top as she scanned her reflection, craning her neck from side to side. Remembering the now trashed pair of Rock n Republic jeans she glanced to her legs, expecting to find a gash through the skin. Nothing. There was nothing marking her – every inch of her smooth, alabaster skin was intact.

The phone ringing at her feet made her jump and squeal in surprise, and she swooped down and opened the call.

"Caroline?" Stefan's voice was heavy with concern on the other end. "Caroline, what happened?"

"I…I threw up," she mumbled quickly. It's okay, I just got dizzy and I had to throw up, okay?" She straightened, suddenly irritated by Stefan's voice. "Can you ask Elena to pick up my English assignment?"

"Sounds like you're having a rough go," Stefan pried, ignoring the request for homework.

Caroline squeezed her eyes shut and turned away from the mirror. Her feet stumbled her back into the bedroom. "M'fine," she said weakly, aiming for the bed.

The breeze shifted her curtains and a shadow caught the corner of her eye. She turned quickly, her breath in her throat as the curtains billowed again and parted, revealing a large black crow. It cawed once, loud, clear, and then turned and flapped out the window.

"Caroline, Elena is coming over."

She didn't hear Stefan's announcement. Instead, she dropped the phone and crashed back into the bathroom, and heaved over the toilet.


	12. Chapter 12

_A/N Here be drug use! There are nary lemons here, but rather some internal workings between Caroline and Elena and Caroline and Damon. I've always been curious about their relationship on the show because we know they used to be friends but have obviously grown apart. Anyway…ooh, actually, now that I think about, there is a tiny lemon here, nothing more than a shot of limoncello, but it's short and has a bit of sizzle._

_I apologize for the delay – work has been hellish as of late and as a result, I have had to give many people the 'Don Draper' treatment, which alas, is not drinking multiple old-fashioned whiskeys and sleeping with various unattainable paramours – no, instead I've had to resort to being short, concise, and sometimes beyond bluntly rude. But I get results. Now sit down. Read this. Leave your comments._

_Lemons are coming…_

* * *

Elena found her surrounded by a haze of smoke.

"Shit," Caroline uttered, smoke exhaling from her as she did. The joint crushed out between her fingers and the ashtray and she waved a hand around like it would help. "What the hell are you doing here?"

Elena glared at Caroline, shock and disbelief on her dark features. "Caroline, you totally hung up on me and when Stefan called back he said I was coming over – and then you dropped the phone! What happened?"

Caroline's face fell and she glanced away to scowl in concentration. "I threw up. I woke up with a migraine and I threw up." She shrugged and set the ashtray aside.

Elena's concentration was directed at the carpet where her toe nudged a dark smudge. The dirt had been stubborn, and Caroline's carpet was cream coloured, unable to hide anything. She seemed to take Caroline's answer but then Elena's dark eyes narrowed and she leaned down to Caroline's face. "Why are you getting stoned?"

"Because I like to get stoned," Caroline said back just as steadily. She held her gaze until Elena backed down and ended their staring contest.

"Well…it's not cool," Elena muttered, flicking her gaze down and away. "How are things with you and Damon?"

Caroline heard the hesitation in Elena's voice before saying his name. It was clear that the brunette was attracted to the elder Salvatore brother. It was Caroline's turn to narrow her gaze and she got to her feet. "Things are fine."

"Did you buy drugs from Jeremy?"

Caroline's eyes widened with anger. "For godssake, Elena, did you come here to check on me or on your little brother?"

Elena gaped silently like a fish.

"You're not the center of the universe, you know," Caroline snapped.

The brunette blinked and then scowled, hearing the edge of malice in Caroline's voice. "I'm sorry I came over," she uttered stiffly. "We're all worried about you, Care. And this," Elena paused to gesture at the ashtray and the stash and buster piled on a History 20 textbook, "isn't helping the situation. Are you sure, without a doubt, that you're okay?"

"I'm perfect," Caroline said with a dazzling smile.

Elena sighed and heaved a shrug. "Okay," she said, shaking her head. She dropped the subject and unzipped her backpack, pulling notes and a copy of _Othello_. "Here. We just started with act one – questions due by Wednesday."

"Thanks," Caroline murmured. Suddenly she looked at Elena – really looked, and took in the concern, the lucid quality in her eyes and the way they sparkled – those damn brown doe eyes _always_ seemed to sparkle as of late. "How are things with you and Stefan?" she ventured, wondering just what exactly Elena knew about the boy she was dating.

Elena's brow wrinkled for a moment and she looked confused by the question – or the answer. Slowly, the brunette opened her mouth and then closed it again. "Good," she shrugged.

Elena Gilbert was a _horrible_ liar – she always had been. But still, from where Caroline was standing, she seemed to be fairing, well,..._fairly well_, considering that Stefan was a vam…pire… Was it possible that Elena didn't _know_? That Caroline was in on the secret this time instead of the other way around? It surprised her, actually, because she knew that the Gilberts were a founding family – and that Jonathan Gilbert had been mentioned once or twice in the places Caroline had snooped as an adolescent.

Elena bristled and tucked that sweeping lock of dark hair behind her ear _again_, and ducked her head before continuing in an awkward tone, "Are you…um…going to the Founder's Party?"

"I'm pretty sure I don't have an option," Caroline answered flatly, looking down at the book in her hands. "You?"

"Yeah," Elena nodded, her dark hair swinging, brown eyes wide. "Stefan and I…"

Caroline nodded and held up the book. "Well…looks like I've got some catching up to do before Wednesday."

"Right." Elena flashed a tight smile. "Okay," she breathed with a little shrug, "I guess I'll go now. See you in geography tomorrow morning?"

Caroline wrinkled her nose and shrugged back. "Maybe. I might skip. But I'll catch up with you and Bon at lunch."

"Kay." Elena tossed her book bag over her shoulder and headed back to the door. "Caroline," she started as her hand landed on the door handle. Glancing back she fixed the blonde with an even gaze. "I…I know things have been different…since the summer. I don't want there to be this…" and she paused, waving back and forth between them, "weirdness between us. I want us to be friends again."

"Again?" Caroline scoffed lightly. "We were never really 'friends' in the first place, were we?"

Elena sighed and shook her head. "It's not a competition, Caroline – it never was."

Caroline nodded and arched an eyebrow. "Could have fooled me."

* * *

She was pleasantly stoned.

The late September weather had taken a turn to scorching in the last few weeks of the month and Caroline took full advantage of it after Elena had left. First, of course, she had to finish the joint that Elena has so rudely interrupted. Caroline shimmied into her tiniest bright green bikini and hauled the deck chaise down onto the overgrown lawn next to the maple tree. Stretched out on her back she slid her sunglasses off of her face and closed her eyes, tipping her smile up into the dazzling sunlight.

The breeze tickled the soft skin of her belly and teased the ends of her hair as she let her fingertips trail through the grass. Her earbuds were snug in her ears, pumping through a random mix that was currently spouting No Doubt. Thoughts flitted in and out of her head, faces, names, songs, places she'd been and wanted to go…it was a random mix, as random as the music in her ears, and with her eyes closed and the warm sun beating down, she let herself get lost right then.

_Do you miss me?_

She sprang up. With wide eyes she glanced about the yard as Damon's voice rattled in her ears. Forcing herself to remain calm she closed her eyes and drew a few deep breaths before collapsing back against the chair with a groan. She threw her arm over her eyes and thumbed the forward button on her iPod.

_Do you miss what I do to you?_

He's not here – he's not in the yard and he's not here, not here, he's not here and he can't see you, can talk to you, can't hurt you –

_I can do anything I want to._

He _can't_. Can he? She shivered as the breeze shifted and grew stiff against her skin. Goose flesh rose in the wake of it and with a sigh and a huff she rolled over onto her back and rested her head on her arms.

_I can and I __**will**__, Caroline._

* * *

_The more she smoked the more he felt it – a slow, throbbing, warming sensation spreading from his chest to his fingers, curling in the blood and rolling merrily along.__ She could delude herself all she wanted. He was __**in**__ her now, through and through, head to shoulders, hips and thighs and toes, and the sweetly curving inches in between._

_She ate at him. In the latest hour of night the memory of the feel of her would gnaw at him, piece by piece. Her blonde hair slid up his chest like a ghost; her lips were diaphanous, whispering against his ear, his throat, the inside of his thigh. Her blue eyes were the night, all dark and haunting; her hands grasped like phantom claws, burning and chilling and strong will determination. Caroline was the fire and Damon the fuel. Longing for the ache and burn of her he let his eyes drift shut and find her as she sweated and stretched beneath him, took him in and chewed him to the bone._

_He let her be for the moment and turned from the window of her mind and stepped through his own. With his eyes closed he smiled at the vision of Caroline he created, pale alabaster, glowing softly in the night, and her hair making a pale, luminous halo around her head. The ink-blue pools of her eyes threatened to drown him__ as he lost himself to the sensations he so carefully crafted._

_She was playful this time – well, she usually was, but this was more so. She pouted and petted so prettily, puckering her lips so that he wanted nothing more than to plunder her lips and sip from her, blood, sweat, and heat in one. Ah, but as he did so did she and he knew the sting of fangs from along his life. Then she sucked, and she did it so well, only this time it was his lips, not his cock, being treated to sweet torture as she drank his blood._

_Lust spiked through him, and he shifted up the bed so that his back was propped against the headboard and his legs were spread out before him. He was hard and it was painfully tart between his hips. Aching and shaking he reached for his belt, sliding it open and breathing a sigh of relief as the zipper followed suit._

_It was quick and not what he wanted, but three quarters of the way through he was too far gone to give up and the twinge in his balls told him that he would come soon. Chuffing a sigh he redoubled his efforts, and grunted in time with his stroking fist. Fingertips spread the clear fluid that leaked out with every pass, and his nostrils flared at the sensation of climbing higher and higher towards ecstasy. His eyes slipped shut and the image of Caroline, warm, sweet, bloody and burning Caroline was the first thing he saw in his mind. A lusty moan tore out of his chest and his orgasm erupted. He spent himself in four quick bursts that coated his fingertips and his stomach, and when it was over he groaned in his throat and slid down to recline on the mattress once more._

* * *

_The front door creaked open and the sound was followed by familiar voices. One eye cracked open, pulling him from his orgasm-induced haze, and the other eye followed, focusing on the exposed beams of the ceiling. __He didn't bother showering before descending the steps to greet Stefan and Elena; he did nothing more than pull out a fresh shirt and haul it over his naked torso. Pausing briefly at the mirror he smirked – Damon looked like he'd done a lap or six around the mattress. He'd spent the last hour or so being ravished in self-induced pleasure, toe curling, muscle straining gratification. His steps were light as he bounded down the steps and landed in the parlour._

"_Elena," he purred, moving past her with a smouldering glare._

"_Damon," she croaked. Her fear made her eyes dart about, never landing on his, until she found Stefan coming back in from the kitchen._

"_Hello, Stefan," Damon chuckled. He moved off to the liquor cart and fixed himself bourbon, neat. Before he spoke he took a sip, and let it linger in his mouth for a moment. " Well," he said at last, wetting his lips and sliding his gaze over Elena one more time. Then he turned back to Stefan's slowing scowling face. "What did you learn at school today? And," Damon paused, raising a finger before Stefan could answer, "don't say 'nothing.' It's too cliché."_

_Stefan's broody gaze narrowed more, if that were possible, and he stared at Damon for moment as his delicate nose twitched in the shifting air around Damon. The elder Salvatore did nothing more but smile lewdly at his baby brother. Realization hit Stefan like a freight train and his chiselled features twisted into a grimace of disbelief and exasperation. He opened his mouth to scold Damon. _

"_Is there something going on between you and Caroline?" Elena suddenly blurted, crossing her arms and trying her very best burn Damon with her gaze._

_Stefan's impending outburst was forgotten and Damon fixed his blue eyes on Elena. He__ shivered, mocking her, and smiled before taking another sip of bourbon. "May-be," he drawled brokenly. "But I don't think that's any of your business."_

"_She wasn't at school today," she continued, steeling her gaze and her jaw._

_Damon mirrored her, crossing his arms over his chest and narrowing his eyes into a pointy little scowl. "Well maybe I kept her out past curfew last night," Damon said smugly. His blue eyes flicked to Stefan. "What __**have**__ you been saying about me, brother, to get our girl here so riled up?"_

_Elena bristled at the term 'our' but Stefan spoke, moving towards his brother and his girl in an attempt to put space between the two. "I don't have to say anything, Damon. Your actions speak volumes."_

_Damon contemplated Stefan's words for a moment and then dissolved into a cool chuckle. "Ouch," he smirked. "You got me there, __Stef." He put a hand over his heart and winced. "You cut me deep." Damon sobered a moment later. "And just what exactly have I been doing?"_

_Stefan paused and Damon watched his brother's sullen determination falter, and the younger Salvatore glanced to Elena before pursing his lips. "You're up to something – and you'll slip up, Damon, you always do, and you'll get caught."_

_Damon sneered at Stefan and directed his eyes at Elena. When he had her gaze and was sure her attention wouldn't stray, he spoke again. "I'll tell you what's going on between me and Caroline," Damon drawled. "She's young and she likes to live a little dangerously. Enter me," and Damon gestured to himself with both hands. "The dashing and continental __**elder**__ Salvatore brother who with his good looks and burning charm shows Caroline all of life's little pleasures…and big pleasures, too," Damon added for good measure with a gleam in his eye. He leaned close to Elena and smiled gently as his voice grew soft. "What Caroline and I do is between two consenting adults…"_

"_She's __**seventeen**__," Stefan growled._

_Damon quirked a quick eyebrow at his brother. "__**Eighteen**__ in May," he countered before looking back to Elena. "Where was I?"_

"_I get it," Elena grumbled, squirming under his gaze and blushing furiously. _

"_Good," Damon said smoothly, flashing a winning smile. "I'm so glad we've established that. I mean, I wouldn't ask what __**you**__ two are doing." He nodded towards Stefan. "Although, judging from his sour face, I'd say that you're not doing much of __**anything**__." He lifted his drink and the bottle of bourbon and sauntered to the staircase. "Good night, you two. Stefan – no girls in your bedroom past ten – and keep the door open," he chuckled, shooting one more look in Elena's direction before disappearing from the parlour in the direction of the library._

* * *

Caroline didn't see him until Wednesday evening. Her mom was working late – big surprise – and she'd been fed up with frozen food. Opting for delivery, she called up Globefish Sushi and placed an order for two dynamite rolls and a dragon roll, and miso soup and tempura yams. Then, she found season one of Angel re-running on the sci-fi station. According to Bonnie it was a great show – Bonnie's older cousin Sarah had recommended it – and Caroline settled in to see what was so hot about it. The doorbell rang twenty minutes later – right on time – and she grabbed her wallet on the way to answer it.

"_Buona sera_," Damon Salvatore purred from his perch on the porch. "Or should I say _konbanwa_?" He held up a bag with a Globefish logo on it and passed it over to her.

"Thanks," she said, taking it and looking down the driveway with trepidation.

"I already ate, thanks."

The delivery driver was gone. He already ate? "What? Oh my god, Damon…"

"_Relax_," Damon growled, rolling his eyes. He stepped up to the door and brushed past Caroline. "I was joking. You owe me twenty one seventy-seven."

"You didn't tip?" Caroline asked, turning and watching with a frown as he shrugged out of his jacket and let it fall over the back of the couch. He didn't answer her and instead took a seat and picked up the remote control. "Sure, fine, come on in," she muttered before following in his footsteps.

She dove into the bag of takeout and began arranging the containers, ignoring Damon for the moment as her stomach grumbled in hunger. It felt…strange to sit beside him. It wasn't uncomfortable, but there was something lingering between them that halfway…_good_. Almost _normal_.

"What is this crap? Oh, you found Angel. You know, sometimes I wonder if Joss Whedon wasn't following Stefan around when he created this show – the forehead is certainly big enough." He rolled his pale eyes towards Caroline. "Are you actually _watching_ this?

Looking up from where she was struggling to open a tiny package of soy sauce, Caroline frowned, first at him, and then at the screen. Then she pouted at him. "What? I heard it was good."

Damon rolled his eyes and heaved a dramatic sigh before tossing the remote into her lap. "Whatever. Here, give me that." He plucked the soy sauce envelope from her fingers and tore it open with a smooth tug, and then poured it out into the little paper dish next to the rolls. "You know, this is hardly sushi," he commented, nodding at the combination of cooked fish and avocado and mayo. "_Real_ sushi is _raw_, and it's slippery as it goes down."

She gulped thickly beside him as his words tickled her ears. She shook her head lightly. "Whatever." She dug around in the bag and growled. "No fork." She pushed herself up from the couch but froze when Damon's hand caught hers and tugged her back down.

"You've got _chopsticks_," he muttered, grabbing them and waving them under her nose.

She stared at the paper package between Damon's fingertips for a moment. "I don't like using chopsticks," she said lamely. It was half true, anyway – she didn't like using them because she didn't know _how_.

"Well, too bad. I'm not going to sit here and watch you eat bastardized sushi with a stainless steel fork. You're using the wood, baby, now get some wasabi in there." He pointed at the soy sauce.

"Too hot," she replied, wrinkling her nose.

"Bullshit, it's not hot, it's a bite – a sting, at the most, and then it's gone, forgotten…" he trailed off, his eyes suddenly focused on her lips which she were currently worrying with her teeth. He blinked, as if coming out of a trance, and then tore open the chopsticks. With the tip of one he scooped up a healthy amount of wasabi and stirred it into the soy sauce. Then he perfectly executed the correct grip on the chopsticks and deftly plucked a section of dynamite roll and soaked it in the sauce. A second later he held it up in front of Caroline's mouth. "Open up."

"Hey!" she started to say, and then her mouth was full of cool, tender rice, creamy mayo, and crispy shrimp. The salt of the soy sauce made her lick her lips and sure enough, there was a sting and burn as the wasabi coated her tongue. The mayo, however, seemed to cool it. She chewed the piece and swallowed, trying to keep from smiling at Damon.

"And how was that?" he purred, reaching out for another piece of sushi.

She licked her lips. "Good."

"Exactly," Damon chuckled with an arched eyebrow. "Here, try this one."

Her hand landed on his, halting the mouthful before it got any closer to her. Her blue eyes flicked up to his and she frowned. Something was…_off_. She felt like she was standing on the other side of smoked glass, barely able to make out the shadow of memory that flitted through her mind. Her voice shook as she spoke: "What happened last night?"

His jaw twitched and he stared her hard in the face, searching her gaze. "Have a bad dream?"

Caroline blinked at the hard edge of his voice. "Yes," she whispered with a nod. Of course. That was it. A dream.

"Hmm…what did you dream?" he cooed, tucking her under his arm and bringing her to curl against him as he leaned back.

But his back was cold and hard against her shoulder and she didn't like the way her hip was digging into his belt buckle. "I don't remember," she murmured, for it was the truth – a murky truth, maybe a half, but honestly…she didn't remember. She couldn't even piece it together past watching Mad Men last night.

The sushi was forgotten

* * *

TBC


	13. Chapter 13

_A/N: Ugh, PURE LEMON BELOW!_

_It's almost shameful how this chapter is almost utterly plot-free. Sure, there's a little Damon / Caroline banter at the end, but for the most part, this is about people getting their fuck on. Many thanks to readers old and new, constant reviews, and new acquaintances. I've been asked to BETA! for two people, one in the True Blood realm (bring it on Season Four! Anyone else notice how when True Blood is on, Vampire Diaries is done for the season, and then Vampire Diaries runs and True Blood is done for the season? I know, I thought it ruled too.) so I'm trying to wrap up this story in the next 4-5 chapters. It's coming to a head; I just figured out how I was going to wrap this up and still stay true to some elements of the show._

_Read, review, leave me cookie recipes if you like! And now, just for you…_

* * *

She'd stepped into this darkness blindly, with little hesitation and even less encouragement. She'd sought this out, searched for it, rifled through the stacks of boys and men and none of them had ever measure up quite like the long, stinging stab that Damon was. He scratched at her, sliced and struck gold in her blood, and she was now swirling endlessly in a crimson maelstrom that left her gasping for breath. She didn't know any better anymore; she only knew that if she wanted finish he needed to bite because she needed it to send her flying frantically into the darkness that opened up beneath her feet. Nothing but this made sense or meant anything.

She had what she wanted:

The shuffle has landed on some crazy dub-ska mix that was the backbeat for frenzied hands and teeth. Damon threw her up onto the dresser and snatched her shirt up over her head before diving into her breasts, moaning against her and licking her skin. She clutched his hips with her thighs and threaded her fingers through his hair, sighing sweetly in reply. His hands were a flurry, and they plucked her bra from her skin as if it were made of paper. The fabric of her panties split when he tugged them from her, and she rattled back against the mirror and howled as Damon's fingers sought her out, sliding the tips of two fingers around her before gliding down and sinking deep into her warmth and wetness. He panted a groan and went almost cross eyed at how tight and fucking ready she was for him. On a whim, he sank a third finger into her and pushed his tongue into her mouth and she bit him in reply, right into the meat of his tongue. The little minx had drawn blood again.

The end of his belt clipped against his hipbone as Caroline tore it from his jeans with a death grip on the buckle, and he couldn't resist bucking into her, grinding and trying to fuck her right through the denim. Suddenly she snapped, and hissed and growled, tearing the button out of his jeans before wrenching the zipper open. Her fingernails scratched him as she worked, and she pulled hair, but it all added to the sensations running through him and stinging his nerves. Grabbing a handful of hair at the nape of his neck she yanked him down and rocked her hips into his. "Damon," she panted, reaching between them with her other hand to fumble with his underwear.

He let her push it down out of the way and then she grasped his length and pressed it against her, and then into her, pushing through tightness, and wetness. She was so hot around him, and his balls twinged with the insane pleasure rocketing through him. He hissed and glared down at her hotly, pushing the damp strands of hair from her face and holding her steady as he glided in and out of her. When her blue eyes squeezed shut and she cried out, rolling her head back against the mirror, Damon froze and let her quake all over him – her hips churned and as she pushed herself onto his cock and then slid back. He let her fuck him, fascinated by the concentration on her face, broken with random looks of wonder when he rubbed her just right. Breathy little moans sailed in and out of her mouth in.

"Put you hands behind you," Damon panted, "and fuck me, Caroline," he growled roughly, before helping her into place. When he was satisfied, he was cupping her ass in one hand while she held her torso up with her hands beneath her on the dresser. He rocked into her, showing her the ease with which they swung into each other, but he let her set the pace.

She was coming hard two minutes later, leaving Damon gasping with a pulsing shaft. No girl should have a pussy like that; she was downright addictive, and she looked so good, all lush and pink and full of his cock. Licking the pad of his thumb on his free hand, he reached down and gently strummed her clit with a slow upward stoke. Instantly she tightened around him, contracting and relaxing all up and down his steely length. "Ah, fuck," he growled, rolling his head across his shoulders as darts of pleasure bolted up and down his body and culminated warmly between his hips and thighs.

If she gripped him any harder, she'd pass out from exertion. She couldn't help it, though; he felt too good as he filled her up; he was touching her _everywhere_. Hot and cold flashed through her limbs every time his thumb snagged her clit and it made her push herself further onto his cock, taking everything and trying to go further. Heat and wetness and the sweet feeling of being filled by Damon overwhelmed her and she felt her self shaking with the oncoming orgasm. "Oh, fuck, _Damon_, I'm gonna cum," she warned seconds later. Her head snapped back up in a flurry of blonde waves and she bit her lip before sliding onto him once more in a strong, steady rhythm. "Don't stop," she gasped.

Her eyes flashed like sapphires as she looked up at him and he moaned deeply before he was ratcheted to her hips by her legs and her fingers curled over the edge of the dresser. With her hips titled up and her ass snug against his thighs she hugged him right into her, and his knees collided with the drawers in front of him. Another hot moan floated from his chest as she snared his hair with one fist and clawed his ass with the other.

"Goddammit, Damon, I wanna fucking _cum_!"

With a gasp Damon nodded, his blue eyes narrowed in concentration, and with one speedy move he clasped her body to his and spun them so that he landed on the bed on his back and Caroline was seated in his lap.

"By all means," he purred, reaching up to palm her breasts and roll his thumbs over her nipples. "Don't let me stop you," he urged, rolling his hips up into her. "Make yourself cum, Caroline."

She huffed in frustration and leaned back on her knees, arching her back and thrusting her breasts into his hands. Reaching behind her she clasped his upper thighs and raised up on her toes, opening herself up completely and feeling every inch of Damon's cock create a delicious friction within her. One hand found her clit and she pinched the hard nub of slick flesh between her fingertips, rolling it back and forth.

Below her Damon howled softly at how hot and wet she looked. It was driving him mad, watching her fuck him, and all he could do was lay back and ride it out with her. "That's it," he cooed, glancing up at her from under his thick dark lashes. "Oh, that's _it_," he whispered hotly, panting with anticipation. Propping himself up on his elbow he reached for her and helped add weight and speed to her movements. The twirl of his hips matched hers, the feeling was hot and vibrating.

Her blonde head nodded frantically, her thick hair floating about her as she bounced up and down on his cock, careening towards the inevitable. Her belly was tied into knots that were scorching with pleasure; her slick channel clamped and released of its own accord, sucking Damon deeper. Then his hands gripped her hips and he pulled her down against him as he pushed up, grinding the very head of his cock against that spot deep inside. Damon groaned lustily, loud and undeniably wanton and that sound was enough to send Caroline skyrocketing into climactic orbit. And she rode it, and rode it harder, faster, sobbing incoherently as Damon's eyes crossed.

He hadn't cum, but he had been _close_, and he silently thanked the TCH and alcohol that had been in Caroline's – and his – blood. That had been incredible – _insanely_ hot – and his blood surged up again. With a burst of speed he had pulled out, chuckling at the pained cry that left Caroline's lips. He spun her over in his hands and arranged her back. She gasped and sobbed with protest – "No, Damon, wait," she warbled, even as her spine arched down so that her ass was thrust up. He saw her fingers slide over her slick pussy and he growled and pushed her hands away.

"You got to cum," Damon said, "and now it's my turn."

A hot gasp tore from her throat as his fingertips ghosted over her.

_He felt her breath catch as he worked his way inside. He was relentless, pushing past the slight resistance he felt from her. "You can take it," he murmured, cupping her ass and tick__ling her skin with his fingertips He palmed her belly, stroking the taught muscles there, before moving and touching her where they joined. "Oh, shit, Caroline, it's so tight," he groaned thickly, moving once more to stroke her clit gently._

_He slid all the way in, and her back arched and she whimpered, and then stilled._

"_Oh __**fuck**__," she whispered hotly._

"_You got __**that**__ right," Damon smirked down her. She giggled softly in return and he winced as her muscles tightened and relaxed at an alarming rate. He waited until she stilled again, and then he grasped her hips once more and pulled her up onto the tops of his thighs. Her legs fell open uselessly on either side of him. Delirious with pleasure, Caroline arched her hips up into his grasp and then grinned wickedly, her blue eyes snapping with heat._

"_I want it," she murmured, sinking teeth into her bottom lip when Damon bucked deep and slowly. He couldn't look away when she spoke again: "I want it __**all**__, Damon."_

_Oh…this was a very bad situation._

_The darkness rolled through him. Even though he cowered behind it, he couldn't deny how out of control the pleasure was. He could tear into her, one quick clean slice, and be done with it._

_Or, she might die. That didn't seem to bother him._

_She shifted her hips. "Damon?" she murmured softly after a moment of silence._

"_No you don't," he said softly, with one smooth shake of his head. Shifting her body he was soon cradled between her thighs and she was clinging to him, thighs to hips and hands on his shoulders. Her warmth was almost overwhelming – __**almost**__. His hips moved languidly, but firmly, as he rocked into her, and he left little time for her to catch her breath after each stroke. Soon she was mewling beneath him, alternating between biting her lip and his bicep. Her nails dug deep into his arms and her legs locked around his waist. He let her win and sank against her, and together they worked each other, a shock of black hair and smooth waves of pale corn blonde, and gleaming, flushed, alabaster flesh._

_The floating waves of pleasure soon began to crash harder over Damon, and he began to move harder, faster, moaning as she did, their pitch rising together as their hips kept time. Licking her mouth, he moved his lips to her ear and whined as their tempo increased once more. "I'm gonna cum," he warned hotly, and Caroline's answer was a sigh before she clamped down on him harder than ever. A hoarse cry tore from his chest, her name strangled with his voice, and his hips snapped back and forth at a bruising pace – once. Twice. Three-four-fi – "_

"_FUCK!"_

_He spent himself long and hard inside of her, pushing into her without hesitation until his hips rattled, defeated, and he slumped against her chest with a heaving sigh._

* * *

Later, he murmured, "I think you melted my brain."

"Don't you need one to begin with before I can melt it?" Caroline murmured sleepily from where she was curled against Damon's side.

He growled playfully and dug his fingers into her ribs, making her squirm and giggle, and sink her blunt teeth into the meat of his pec. He yelped in surprise – and then quickly rolled her over, settling between her thighs heavily like he had earlier.

"Your mother's home," he smirked. And then the wall across from her window flashed with the glare of headlights turning into the driveway. Damon was right – that was the sound of her mother's cruiser.

"Holy shit!" she squealed, heaving her weight against him. He actually moved, just slightly, but it was enough for her to wiggle out from under him in a flash and scamper around her bedroom. "Fuck, Damon, you need to get out of here!"

He snorted and leaned back against the headboard. One graceful movement pulled the wooden box that held her stash to his attention, and he began pulling out papers and a tiny pair of scissors.

Caroline gaped. "Are you fucking rolling a joint in here?"

Damon scowled up at her as he snipped the stuff into tiny pieces. "Uh…yeah," he answered in a mocking tone. "What the hell, Caroline, you were smoking in here all morning." He shrugged and continued with his task.

"Ass!" she hissed. "My _mother_ is home, as you so astutely pointed out." At the dresser she stopped pacing and scooped up his pants and boxers, and tossed them across his legs, ignoring the snarl of annoyance he threw at her. "Get the hell off of my bed – no, leave the goddamn weed – and get your ass out onto the balcony!"

"Are you kicking me out?" he asked, sounding taken aback.

"Damon!" she shrieked in a whisper, her blue eyes going wide with fear.

A second later, Caroline's mother's voice rang out up the stairs. "Caroline Margaret Forbes!"

She winced and flashed one more pleading look towards Damon. With a roll of his eyes he gathered his supplies and ducked out onto the balcony, and she tossed his clothes after him before sneaking the doors shut and sliding into bed.

The door swung open and her mother stood in the doorway, frowning at the sight of her daughter looking flushed and tucked into bed at ten o'clock at night. "Caroline?" the sheriff asked tentatively.

"Hey mom," Caroline croaked like a pro. "I'm sorry – I woke up with another migraine," Caroline fibbed. It was easy enough – she often suffered them with the pressure changes in the atmosphere. Her mother suffered them as well and knew the full on debilitating pain. "And I tried to call but then the Advil kicked in."

"I was out of range most of the day, anyway – the school couldn't even reach me. There were multiple messages from ten until four."

"Sorry," Caroline murmured, turning her gaze to the bed sheets.

"Next time, leave a message," her mother growled. "You're going to school tomorrow."

It wasn't a question. "Yep," Caroline nodded, motioning to her English homework. "All caught up." She added a tight smile. "G'night, _mom_."

Caroline counted to ten before Damon slid back inside, tossing his pants over her desk chair. He then hopped up into the bed and bounced beside Caroline. He winked and wiggled his eyebrows suggestively before producing not one, but _two_ expertly rolled joints. "Is your mom a heavy sleeper?"

"She's probably downed at least two valium already. Give her ten minutes and she'll be out like a light." She hopped back out of bed and grabbed her book off of her desk, and then crawled back under the covers and showed Damon the cover.

"_Twilight_," he read out loud in a sombre tone. "Ooh, sounds fan-girly. Wait, this is the one with Robert Whatsit-son, right? And that kid who's like seventeen but moms are into him?"

"Whatever," Caroline huffs, "I'm reading it for the sake of reading it – it's like, pop culture."

"You're scaring me," Damon growled, but he dropped the topic and perched on his elbow and watched as Caroline settled against her pillows and opened the book and began to read.

She scanned the most recent paragraph she'd read and then dove in, conjuring up the restaurant in Port Angeles, the one that Edward takes Bella to after he's saved her from that group of bruisers.

"Are you reading?" Damon inquires with a quietly awed voice. "Seriously?"

The waitress had just approached the table, obviously trying to interrupt and grab Edward's attention again. Caroline barely acknowledge the vampire beside her. "Shh," she murmured.

"You _shushed_ me," Damon pouted. "I don't even let _Stefan_ get away with that," he added thoughtfully.

"Look, I said to wait ten minutes – it's not going to kill you, you're like, what, a hundred and fifty? What's ten more minutes?"

"Fine. Wake me when we start having fun," Damon pouted before flopping back against the pillows.

She was surprised with the sound of him snoring later. She didn't wake him – she was exhausted, and for once, Damon had stopped…well, he had just _stopped_. His body was still as the grave and the air barely stirred near his mouth and nose, no doubt some habit born of muscle memory in the deep realm of sleep.

Deftly she plucked the joints from Damon's grasp and set them on her side of the bed before reaching out to flick off the lamp. Darkness swallowed them; in the moon-polished shadows of her bedroom, Damon's face became a map of emotion, all hard planes and smooth surfaces, with the dark slash of eyebrows and lashes, and the thick fall of shadow-black hair that rested on his forehead. In sleep, she couldn't see his eyes, and for that she was grateful. They caused too many problems.

Satisfied that he was out, Caroline rolled to her side and tucked the covers around her. She waited a breath and was rewarded with a shift on the mattress, and Damon's arm curling over her hip and tucking her bottom into his pelvis. Scant moments later her breathing was even, and she tumbled gently into Damon's dreams.


	14. Chapter 14

_A/N_ _A little explanation about where this first part of this chapter goes. In the last instalment, I made it pretty clear that while Elena and Caroline had been friends, something had happened between them that had set things off kilter. My version of Elena and Caroline's friendship is very much like a relationship between me and a woman I've known since were we about twelve or so. She's not my best friend and growing up, we fought a lot. Things came to a head when we were about 23 and things got physically violent. We didn't speak for about a year after that, and we've never really come out and apologized or tried to analyze it, but we've come to be on better terms now than we have been. So, the thought that Elena and Caroline might one day be friends again (and we see that they eventually do become closer) is always comforting._

* * *

Wednesday came.

And then it went.

It was followed closely by Thursday.

That day turned into Friday and blessedly, there was a teacher in-service that day. No school.

But that meant no distraction. Caroline blinked at the clock next to her bed. It was only seven but she felt it necessary to get out of bed, anyway. She'd heard her mother's cruiser leave the driveway at about six, so she was home alone (big surprise). But she didn't want to get caught here unawares by a certain blue eyed monster who wouldn't leave her alone.

Honestly, sometimes the intensity of it all scared her, but when she was with Damon she felt…well, _good_ – like she had a part of herself she hadn't known she'd been missing. Damon brought out the bitch in her. Okay, maybe more than that. He brought out the girl that was the complete opposite of Bubble-line Forbes as she had been known in the eighth grade. These days Caroline went to school and did her homework, but little else outside of letting Damon ravage her social calendar with his nightly visits. She was tired all of the time, but on edge, like she was waiting for his next move, constantly. But she craved it – craved this back and forth thing they'd started, and she liked the fact that they had come to some sort of agreement between them. Sure, it was silent; Damon and Caroline rarely spoke about deeper issues but the fact they communicated on a rather intimate level anyway suited them both fine.

But he was a vampire.

Duh, hel-_lo_! He was a vampire, a real life blood sucking fiend from beyond the grave, and so it proved that her mother was not a raving lunatic for conducting meetings regarding them. It proved that those things her mother wrote about – well, the _vampires_ - anyway, were real. And it also proved that Caroline liked a bit of monster in her man.

God, she was turning into Buffy!

At least she didn't have the eternal Angel or Spike dilemma – no broody, mopey, big-headed regretful vampires for her. No, she liked them raw and able to tear throats out.

Was hers in danger?

Was _in_ danger?

Her phone rang. "Hello?"

"Get up. We're going shopping," Bonnie informed her on the other end. "We're headed into Richmond."

Caroline frowned. "We? Why do I get the feeling that you're not referring to just you and me?"

There was an awkward pause on Bonnie's end and then she sighed. "All right," Bonnie growled, "so it's a shopping trip disguised as bonding. Come on – Elena needs a dress, you need a dress – it's therapeutic and practical." Then, in a smaller voice: "Please?"

"Don't you need a dress?" Caroline asked as she kicked the covers off of her legs and hopped out of her bed. She shuffled to the bathroom to assess the condition of her hair. If she could get away without washing it, she would – it was a pain in the ass to wash and dry and curl and she didn't feel like putting that much effort into it today. She fingered the blonde waves as Bonnie continued.

"I won't be here – I'm staying with Grams that weekened."

"Ooh, are you guys having like a Sabrina The Teenaged Witch weekend?" Caroline cracked, grabbing her toothbrush and squirting some toothpaste onto it.

"Ha ha," Bonnie deadpanned. "Please say you'll come today? Okay? We'll have lunch at Gulliver's and then we'll hit Maple Street and all up and down Eleventh Avenue. Caroline," Bonnie began to sing sweetly, "rooaad triip…"

"Damn you," Caroline groused, knowing her weakness for road trips was too powerful to be overridden by her current feelings about Elena. "All right. Can we stop at Atlantis, first? I'm not going anywhere without a latte."

Bonnie laughed brightly and agreed. "I think we'll all need one. I'll be there in an hour, okay?"

* * *

So, an hour later, Caroline was tucked into the backseat of Bonnie's Prius, an extra-large vanilla bean latte clutched in her hand. Elena occupied the front seat, her chocolate coloured hair fluttering in the breeze from the open window as she fiddled with the mp3 player that was plugged into the stereo. Bonnie's green eyes were fixed on the road ahead while she sipped on a mocha.

"I still can't believe that this is the 150th anniversary Founder's Ball," Elena said wistfully as she settled for Broken Bells and let the stereo be for the moment. She picked up her to go cup that held a green tea latte and fiddled with the cardboard sleeve. "I can't believe I'm going," she mumbled, almost to herself.

"But you're taking Stefan?" Caroline asked politely, leaning forward between the front seats to see if there were any more mini muffins left in the little pastry box. She found a blueberry one and munched on it.

"Yeah," Elena said after a moment, smiling at the mention of his name. "Actually, he's the one who suggested it." Elena turned in her seat. "Are you taking Damon?"

Caroline shook her head. "Not likely." The look of confusion in Elena's eyes and Bonnie's matching worried gaze in the rearview spurred Caroline's explanation. "I mean…my _mom_ is going to be there, first of all, and I _so_ don't need to be explaining to her why I'm there with Damon – did I tell you they _know_ each other?"

"What?" Bonnie screeched, turning briefly to stare at Caroline before looking back to the road.

"Yeah. I was at the station last week and Damon just waltzed right into my mother's office and started talking to her like they were best buddies or something."

Elena wrinkled her nose. "That can make things uncomfortable."

"You're telling _me_," Caroline replied, sighing and sinking back into the seat.

"Well, whatever – you can come with me and Stefan," Elena offered.

"We'll figure it out," Caroline shrugged, which everyone present knew it was Caroline's way of saying she wasn't interested in tagging along with Elena and Stefan. Elena didn't press the issue and instead turned back to flipping songs on the mp3 player.

"I like the yellow one," Bonnie pointed out from where she had been watching Elena and Caroline parade around the dressing room of _Buttercream_, one of the best dress shops on the strip.

Caroline frowned at her reflection and tugged on the yellow satin – it was a pale goldenrod yellow with a chocolate colored sash, cut short and flirty. She pushed up on her toes and twisted from side to side. "I dunno," she mumbled.

Bonnie sighed and glanced to the dressing room down the hall. "Elena! Find anything?"

"Maybe?" the brunette's voice floated back before the small bolt that held the door shut rattled open. Elena stepped out and into the four-way mirror and twirled in a red-gold satin dress that was cut to hug her smooth curves. Her dark hair and eyes smouldered – they always did – and the color of the fabric glowed next to Elena's olive skin. "What do you think?"

"It's great," Caroline shrugged truthfully before turning back to tug at the yellow tulle again. "I don't think this is it," Caroline said with a frown.

"What about something blue?" Elena suggested as she checked herself out from all angles. "You know – something really dark blue – to go with your eyes?" She smiled at Caroline's reflection. There was genuine emotion there in her words.

Caroline flashed a small smile back. "I think I saw something there…hold on." Caroline scampered out of the change room, barefooted in a borrowed dress, and marched back through the racks, knowing exactly what she was looking for.

* * *

_"You know," Damon purred lazily as he lounged back against the pillows stacked on Caroline's bed, "having a mother who's a sheriff means you're home alone all the time. More chances to get into trouble." He cocked one dark eyebrow and wrapped the long fingers of his right hand around the base of his erection. "Now __**suck**__," he sneered, reaching his other hand into her hair and pulling her to his arching hips. _

_Caroline went down like the Titanic and he tangled his fingers deeper into her blonde waves. Her mouth was absolute sin, sucking and swallowing in all the right places, and she was so eager, moaning as she wrapped her tongue along the sides of him and stroked him with her fist. He hissed and nodded, cupping her cheek and then her jaw, holding her steadily and making eye contact. "Good girl," he breathed, biting his lips as a sudden spike of lust coursed through is veins. Caroline's tongue was just as clever as everything else and it wiggled and fluttered and then lapped against the very tip of him. She moaned as he leaked saltily on her tongue and he heard the rasp of fabric and the __**smelled **__the sweetness of Carline's wet pussy as she sank her fingers deep._

_She gasped, almost choking on his dick, but it didn't slow her down. He knew she was stroking her clit the way she liked it; her arm was moving as she pleasured herself. He imagined she was close, but she wouldn't be able to get off completely – she'd soak the sheets beneath them but her pussy would still be tight, achingly so. Her clit would get so swollen and stiff and pink that she'd complain that it __**hurt**__ when he touched it, but she'd let him do it anyway, usually softly at first, or with the very flat of his tongue. Just the thought of tasting her again was enough to make him moan hotly and clutch her hair harder, and suddenly, he was back in the moment, thinking of nothing more but coming long and hard into Caroline's mouth._

_His heels dug into the sheets of her bed as he felt the first twinges of release slowly spread up his spine and over his shoulders. At least he remembered to keep his grip on her hair loose; everything she was doing to him was tight and hot and wet. "Oh," he huffed breathily, sighing and pressing his head back against the pillows. His hips rolled. "That's going to make me come," he murmured, praising the blonde girl bobbing up and down his length. She moaned brightly at his admission and her fingers worked faster on her clit._

He hissed sharply all of a sudden, as her lips sucked fast and hard, and even as her mouth went slack he moaned, and it died on his tongue. She did it again – hard suck and then she'd pop her lips off and her lips were back, sucking harder than the last time. Damon was losing his mind; unable to stop the snap of his hips he bucked up into Caroline's mouth with a whine as she whimpered in protest.

She glared at him for the sudden move, but she let her jaw go slack anyway. On his second try he barrelled right into her waiting mouth and she let him yank hard at her hair as she swallowed against his thickness. He came a split second later, warm in the back of her throat, and collapsed. She hovered over him as he stared up at her dazedly. "Where the _fuck_ did you learn to suck a cock, Caroline?" he smiled languidly as he shifted against the pillows.

"I was a girl scout," she said wryly, "and we got patches for _everything_."

Damon's rich laughter filled the bedroom and his blue eyes sparkled. "How old were you?" he asked a moment later, after his chuckles had subsided.

Caroline titled her head and her smile grew distant for a moment. "When? When I gave my first blow job?"

Damon shrugged. "Sure."

"Thirteen."

"Who was he?"

She sat back on her heels and narrowed her gaze at him. "Why do you want to know?"

Damon smirked and folded his hands behind his head, settling in. "Why _don't_ you want me to know?" She was adorable as she shifted on her knees and blushed from the tips of her breasts to her scalp. Damon's laughter from earlier suddenly bubbled again. "Was it that bad?" he gasped in an almost mocking tone. "What did you do – bite his dick off?" A chuckle boiled over and he licked his lips, watching her.

"I thought about it." Caroline answered firmly. "But I was too fucking scared."

Shadows swept over Damon's face upon the admission. "What happened?" he asked again, softer this time.

Caroline shrugged and gave a helpless little laugh. "Whatever, it's not like I didn't say no – I mean, I let him do it and I didn't fight him."

"Doesn't mean it was okay," Damon shrugged as he sat up against the headboard.

"No, it doesn't. But I'm not going to dwell on it – it's not like I'm fucked up because of it." She shifted forward and crawled on her hands and knees until she was straddling his hips. Her slick, tender sex slid against his now stirring one and she settled into his lap. "Besides, I thought the original question was 'where the fuck did you learn to suck cock'. I was thirteen still – almost fourteen, it was a week before my birthday. Anyway, it was getting to the end of the year and the nights were longer. We hung out at the quarry a lot – " and here, Damon's eyes glittered – "and would be home later in the evening around nine or ten if it was a weekend. Anyway, this boy in my class had been playing that whole – I want to hold your hand but not really- game and he had managed to get his buddies to ditch so he could walk me home. It was really hot that night, unusually so, and so we stopped at Gray's up on Lexington Street and split a popsicle."

Damon's attention waned and he raised an eyebrow at Caroline. "Are you going to tell me that you learned to suck dick from a frozen treat?" He waited a beat. "What flavour was it?"

"Cherry," Caroline snapped with flashing eyes. "And have you ever had a popsicle?" she asked snottily.

"Once," Damon said.

"Ever sucked a dick?"

He didn't miss a beat. "More than once."

Now it was Caroline's turn to look shocked. "Really?"

Damon shrugged. "I went to college," he deadpanned.

She shrieked with laughter and rocked on his lap, and felt his hands settle on her hips and hold her to him as he laughed with her. She rested her head on his shoulder and he turned to her, inhaling the smell of her hair and skin. His fingers swept up her spine and cupped her neck gently. Guiding her face to his, he pressed his lips to hers in a quick, soft move before gently rolling her to her back.

"Let's go to my house for a bit," he murmured, slithering down her body with a trail of kisses. He paused, gnawing gently at her hipbone. "We'll have a drink."

"Hmmm," Caroline purred, glancing down at Damon and fingering the dark feathers of his hair. "After," she whispered. She pushed against his shoulder.

"After what?" Damon asked innocently.

She pushed once more against his dark head and she arched her hips up at the same time. "There's bourbon downstairs," she muttered.

"Really," Damon growled. He swiped his tongue across her swollen clit. "I like bourbon," he whispered against her flesh.

Caroline smiled up at her ceiling. "I know."


	15. Chapter 15

_A/N: Not much to report here…some more in depth conversation between Damon and Caroline and a look at Damon's thoughts alone in the dark. Even vampires have doubts. Enjoy!_

* * *

"I always thought it would hurt more than it does," Caroline murmured from beside Damon. Gingerly she turned onto her side and tucked the pillow between her neck and shoulder.

"What's that?" Damon murmured, his blue eyes skimming the pages of the novel clutched in hands.

"Biting," Caroline answered, frowning in amusement at Damon's interest in her reading material. "And you know…blood drinking."

He spared her a glance and she felt it slip over her like the coolness of new cotton sheets. Then, a tiny knowing smirk lifted his lips. "That's because you let me bite you. If you struggle, it is a completely different experience." He flicked his attention back to the novel in his hands.

"What about you?"

Damon was silent for a moment. "What _about_ me?" he asked softly, turning a page.

Caroline sat up a little more and pressed a hand to the center of the book, pushing it away from Damon's steady gaze. His eyes bore into hers with heat.

She licked her lips. "What is it like for _you_?"

Damon watched her with a curious stare. "Biting, or being bitten?"

Caroline took a moment to think about it. "Both," she decided, her eyes sparkling in the dim light.

Damon dog-eared the page to mark his place, a move that made Caroline's eyes narrow in annoyance. He ignored it, however, and set the book aside before shifting under the blankets and curling onto his side. Nestled into the pillows, he waited until Caroline mirrored his pose and then his eyes grew distant and pensive.

"_I don't really remember the physical sensation of being bitten – as a human, anyway. But I remember that I __**was**__ willing. No pain involved. It was like…" he paused and a faraway smile of fondness touched his usually sharp features. "Like there was a part of me that…" and here he scowled and broke off with a quick shake of his head._

_"That only one other person knew about." _

_The vampire looked up from where he was staring at the bold black floral pattern of Caroline's sheets. While his dark brows were drawn down in a scowl, there was a flash of surprise in his eyes at Caroline's words. The girl knew much more than she let on. Intrigued, Damon gentled his features once more and his eyes closed briefly as he spoke._

_"Everybody has that part inside of them – the darker part of them, the one that rarely sees the light of day; the one we'd rather keep cloaked in darkness." Once more his eyes slid open and he regarded Caroline with almost iridescent blue irises. "We see that – __**vampires**__ see that, and we feel it and want nothing more than to add to our own darkness. We feed off of it. It's in the blood. Being bitten, for me, was one answer to something I didn't know I'd been contemplating."_

_He was emboldened by her rapt and honest attention. Not many people – vampire or otherwise – asked him much of anything. He searched for his next words, eager to continue, afraid that he might lose his nerve to do so in front of the girl._

_He took an unnecessary, but much needed, breath. "I was a soldier," he began lightly. "Because my father thought it would make me a man." Damon smiled ruefully at the mention of his father. He looked earnestly at Caroline. "Can you believe that? He wanted me to be a man so he sent me out to kill men." A small chuckle escaped Damon's lips. "I didn't last long – once I saw what he thought a man was, killing and fighting each other for a cause only halfway believed in, I defected. Came home. And my father made sure that I knew just how unhappy he was with the choice I made."_

Right before her eyes, Caroline watched Damon suddenly reveal the painfully human part of him.

"Stefan was his favourite – ever since he was born." Damon scowled as he continued. "I suppose I reminded father too much of my mother."

Caroline's heart broke at the tremor in his voice. Usually, Damon could boil her blood or chill her to the bone with his voice, but now it sounded very much like she thought it would have when he was barely more than a twenty-five year old man. "Do you look like her?" She asked softly.

A brilliant smile flashed and he nodded once. "I do. My mother's maiden name was _Corvi_ – that means 'crow' in Italian. Stefan is more like the Salvatore side of the family – and fittingly so. Salvatore is from the Italian word for 'saviour'." Silence descended on them like a warm shadow, and Caroline didn't dare move. Damon's eyes flashed almost silver as he looked up with a sad smile. "Giuseppe loved my mother, almost to the point of obsession." He pursed his lips in thought. "He caged her like a bird, you know." He wiped a palm over his face and held it there, blocking out the weight of Caroline's mind on his.

"My father left us for another man," she announced.

Damon paused his pity fest and peeked at Caroline between his fingers. He gave a laugh and a sigh and nodded sadly. "So we both have daddy issues. We're so fucked up," he added with a dramatic groan.

"What about when you bite me?" Caroline deftly switched directions and steered the suddenly melancholy vampire to a more stimulating conversation. "What do you like about that?"

She blinked and found herself pinned beneath Damon, his hips gently pressing her back into the mattress. "I'm _in_ you, Caroline," he murmured thickly, rocking against her for emphasis as his eyes searched her face. "I'm in you more than anyone else has ever been."

Heat spread low in her belly at his words, and she couldn't stop the breathy moan that sailed from her throat. It made Damon smirk and she hated him for it, but her anger soon subsided. Damon's lips had descended down her throat and over her collarbones, and his cold and clever tongue lapped at the swell of her breasts. His thumbs and forefingers plucked her nipples; when his lips and teeth and tongue joined in, she was helpless and she cried his name out loud. Suddenly, and very gently, he squeezed each of her nipples and as her breath caught in her throat, he lunged, and replaced his left hand with the sharp points of his fangs.

A hoarse cry burst from Caroline's lips the same moment her blood splashed into his mouth, and she squirmed shamelessly as she felt a new rush of hot wetness slide between her thighs. Damon moaned against her breast as she came, and he pressed his tongue to the gentle flow of blood as the sweet tang of her ready body crashed into his senses.

Her pussy quaked, no word of a lie, and her eyes rolled up in pleasure. Rushing heat blazed on her skin and it was fanned by the suddenly cold tremble of Damon's graceful shoulders where they pressed against her ribs. His arms wrapped around her; she felt herself slip beneath the cool surface. Stars burst between her thighs and she hooked her legs over his hips. With shaking hands she reached between their bodies and gripped his straining length, gasping at the thick, throbbing heat of him. The smooth head of his cock battered against her tight, wet opening, and then he squeezed past. He sank in, and his growl slid out, and his jaw tightened on her breast. A cool hand slid up her throat and he squeezed, just enough to stop her breath for seconds.

Tiny sparks danced before her eyes and then in a heady rush she was breathing again. He was inside of her, just like he said he was, like he'd said he'd be. She _felt_ him cry her name before she heard it, and his name, too, shattering the night. Her blood thundered in her veins and her vision swam as he tightened his hold on her throat once more, this time longer than before. He rocked his hips experimentally, and then with one tight squeeze of his hand he slammed his hips to hers and wrenched a gurgled cry from her throat.

The pain at her throat dissolved and the feeling came back to her skin, little zaps of electricity tracing up and down her body. The danger mixed with the incredible feeling of his cock sliding in and out of her pussy, and she moaned deliriously as the tears leaked from her eyes. She jammed her nails into the skin of his shoulders and he pulled his mouth away with one last lick against the wounds on the underside of her breast. He moved over her, catching her behind the knee with one hand and anchoring her hip with his other. Then he pulled her open and sank into the final inches of her, glancing against her cervix and causing her to howl. She was magnificent, with her head thrown back and her blonde curls spun wildly about her head and shoulders. Her hips jerked against him as she tried to ride him faster, and harder. With a sudden surge up she caught his mouth with hers and licked away her blood until she tasted only him, and scotch, and the unique tang of his tongue.

Damon's eyes shot open as her tongue met his. Around his cock her muscles clenched, released, and then pulsed hard and quick. His hips rolled on, and his lips rambled against hers, faster, harder now, and short, quick snaps that resulted in him practically climbing up her and into her. He flung a hand out and grasped the top of headboard of her bed, and he dug his toes into the mattress. He curled his arm about her hips and darkly muttered, "hold on." When she was clinging to him he let loose, and he didn't stop from pounding into her at an almost inhuman speed.

"Damon!" she gasped brightly, staring up at awe into him at the new sensations he was causing within her.

_"I know," he grunted with a nod. His blue eyes narrowed in concentration and he panted, the tepid breaths cooling the sweat on Caroline's skin. He knew. He knew what she was feeling because he'd felt it too, once, when he'd been in Katherine's web._

_With a snarl, he came, and he wasn't because of the fleeting thought of Katherine. The rush of his orgasm swept through him, along with the sudden realization that Caroline was very much like him. Instead of the smooth movement of muscles he was known for, he trembled slightly and then collapsed against the girl. Unceremoniously, he disengaged from her body and rolled to a seat on the edge of the mattress. He scrubbed a shaky hand through his dark hair and scowled at the window, the curtains billowing._

Turning slightly, he locked eyes with her and said something. He stood and dressed and slipped out the window. Seconds later, Caroline heard the flutter of feathers on the breeze and somewhere in the distant night, a crow croaked indignantly. The sheets were bunched beneath her fingers; she'd gripped them as Damon had ploughed into her. As her muscles came back to life they ached, and she groaned raggedly as she rolled to her side.

She was asleep seconds later.

* * *

_Nerezza qui e niente più__*_

_Yes, indeed there was darkness here, at night, in the woods, alone at last on what had been Salvatore land. He needed to turn it off – to turn it __**all**__ off: the fleeting thoughts, the fantasies, the smell and the feel and the very taste of her all had to be turned off. He wanted to scream, to let out a sound that would be his very anguish with what was going on inside._

_He should have known better – that was his mantra at times like these. What had Simone told him in New York? "Damon, your biggest flaw is your passion; you let it rule, usurping any intelligence or forethought." He thought for a moment about the vampire, the one with the copper waves of hair and the long legs, and chuckled as her words circled over and over again. Such a way with words, that was Simone, and he missed her company and her wit sometimes._

_"And Katherine?" She'd asked._

_**What**__ about Katherine? He froze there, on the old boundaries of Salvatore land, and looked up at the epic space that had once been the family home. That was where the front door had been and right here…he toed the ground and craned his head to and fro. This was where he'd come up the walk when he'd returned home from the war. He remembered seeing Stefan here, still so young, and laughing in the daylight. Damon's attention had been drawn away, however, by the dark hair and feminine curves of the first lady to grace Salvatore land since…well since __**then**__._

_He moved across the land, noting where the stables had stood, and the gate house, and the guest house, and he crossed back past where the kitchen door had led out to the store house, and he remembered stealing candied plums from there when he was only seven and Stefan hadn't even been thought of yet. He walked, further still, into the woods that separated Salvatore land from Lockwood land and there, between the two homesteads, found what he was looking for._

_He paused at the edge of the gaping hole and frowned at the deep empty darkness that stared back at him. "Are you down there, Katherine?" he murmured. "Are you waiting for me?" But of course she was down there, and all she had been doing for the last 150 years was waiting, because he'd seen her taken and seen her stuffed inside the place that was supposed to be a sanctuary and he'd been __**torn**__ when he'd believed her burned and gone forever._

_"Not gone," Simone had purred late one night in the winter, "but perhaps forgotten?"_

_"__**Impossible,**__" Damon had growled back. He would never forget about Katherine. _

_But you did, a little voice whispered, because something more akin to you came along, didn't it? Someone who could pull out and expose everything you've tried to keep hidden came along and that distracted you and your __**passion**__ took over once more. You saw, you wanted, you took, and now when you need to let go, you're a spoiled brat who doesn't want to do as you're told._

_That was his father talking at the very end. __**Spoiled brat**__. _

_**Let go**__._

_Damon snarled and threw a heavy fist into the nearest tree. Let go. Turn it off. Flick the switch and find your maker, forget about the girl because by this time next week, you'll have what you need – no, not her, you don't need her. Focus. Narrow the spectrum and see only what there is to gain by letting her go. Kill her or compel her, but get rid of her. Moon-bright hair and midnight eyes are nothing compared to your lost love who shares so much with your brother's girlfriend._

_He briefly wondered if Stefan thought it sick that he'd ended up with Katherine's double. Damon certainly did – as far as he was concerned, Katherine had chosen __**him**__, the elder Salvatore, no matter how much Stefan liked to think otherwise._

_"I know a witch who knows more than you do. Would you like to meet her?" Those fateful words of Simone had set so much into action. She'd delivered him to Bree, who had in turn agreed to help, for a little something in return. It turned out that Bree was an ancestor of Emily's._

_"So you knew her," Bree grinned, throwing a shot of vodka back._

_Damon smirked in reply and wiggled his finger where his large lapis ring sat. "You could say that."_

_"So you know about the amulet?"_

_And __**that**__ had brought him here, to Mystic Falls. To this hole in the ground – literally – and the memories that it sparked._

_The amulet, Bree had told him, was in the maternal hope chest of Honoria Fell, which would without a doubt be on loan at the Founder's Party. Damon had confirmed it – he'd inquired at Town Hall a few days after his arrival. Of course, they had been more than accommodating to another member of the Salvatore family and had given him a list of things that would be on display. Small-town ladies were prone to asking questions unabashedly, and so he barely batted a lash when one of them, the fifty-ish one named Betty with soft, silver-blonde hair, leaned over the counter and fixed him with her glorious hazel gaze._

_"And what can we expect from the Salvatore family?" Betty had purred._

_He had merely gave Betty another smouldering look and walked away, no doubt leaving a flurry of questions behind him. Now, at the mouth of the crypt where Katherine was kept, he answered: "Revenge."_

* * *

_I was feeling saucy and took a like from Poe's infamous "The Raven" and translated it to Italian. It means "Darkness here and nothing more."_


	16. Chapter 16

_A/N: So, just a quick little note here: In this fic, I've already established that Liz and Damon know each other; it works with the plot arc and still isn't much of a deviation, so I didn't feel like changing it. __You'll recognize some lines from Season One in here, and I've taken some prosaic license with a few scenes, but it works, trust me._

_I'm thinking maybe 2 or 3 more chapters at the most. I'm really getting into 'Strappato e Spurgo' and it's getting some good response – if you haven't checked it out yet, please do so – it features Dark!Stefan and a delicious plot line…anyone else see a personality switch between Damon and Stefan happening? Because I sure do…_

_Heading out to see Thor in an hour…enjoy this while I enjoy some good Aesgard-kicking!_

* * *

_The Founder's Party was being held at the Lockwood Mansion in three days' time. He'd actually been surprised that Caroline hadn't hinted that she wanted to go. In fact, the only thing she'd been babbling on about lately was the era dance, and that made Damon rather curious. Surely a girl such as Caroline wouldn't miss the event of the decade in this armpit of Virginia. There hadn't been as much as a breath about a gown, or getting her nails done (which she'd actually __**had**__ done in a pale, almost sheer gold)._

_She did, however, ask endless questions – and she even texted him once – about poodle skirts, soda shops, and Buddy Holly. He watched her, fascinated, as she pulled on vintage lingerie that shaped and held things in place almost as well as Kevlar armour. Caroline had practically cleaned out a vintage shop in Fell's Church and one after the other she stepped into sweater sets and poodle skirts, twirled, and then replaced them with wiggle dresses that certainly made her wiggle to get into them. He zipped her up and spun her, his hands marring pink and black satin that stretched over her hips, and when she was facing him once more she smiled coyly up at him with lips painted deep red and thick dark lashes framing her endless eyes._

_"You look like Jeanie," he said softly, smirking down at her cleavage and the other secrets her dress revealed._

_Caroline giggled and twirled again. "Who's Jeanie?"_

_Damon shook his head. "Just a girl," he replied lamely. He reached out for her once more and spun her yet again, chuckling with her at her dizziness. With her back to him he stopped her, and let his fingers wander along the zipper that started just below the base of her neck. "Let's get you out of this," he suggested, drawing the zipper down slow and easy._

_"Damon!" she gasped as if scandalized. She jumped out of his reach and turned to face him with flushed cheeks._

_His eyes widened with hers and he laughed, flinging himself back onto the bed and snagging the novel from her nightstand. He flipped it open to where he had left off and began to read again, frowning as he was faced once more with the ambivalence of Edward and Bella's queer relationship. Caroline busied herself at her closet, stripping out of the dress and sliding it back onto its hanger._

_That was when he caught the glimpse of yellow tulle. He smirked immediately. "That doesn't look like it's from the fifties," he hinted. And it didn't – especially considering how short it was cut. And it was strapless. Tossing the book aside he hopped up off the bed and pushed past Caroline. "What's this?" he asked innocently, reaching into the closet and grasping the yellow dress. He held it out to her. "Got a hot date or something?"_

_Caroline snatched the dress back. "Or 'something'," she snapped, holding the garment to her torso and turning to her mirror. "I liked it when I saw it," she explained as she looked over her reflection._

_"Well, let's see it on," Damon suggested, and his fingers flicked open the hooks on Caroline's bra and slid his hands under the high waist of her panties. He slid them down her thighs and then helped her out of her bra before tugging the dress from her hands and pulling it off the hanger. "Here. I'll zip you up." He watched as she stepped into it and hiked it up under her arms. It wasn't even done up yet and he already hated it. Wrinkling his nose in distaste he looked her over once before shrugging, unimpressed. "It's okay," he sighed, sprawling back on her bed and picking up her book once more_.

"Just 'okay'?" Caroline growled, turning to look at herself again. She frowned. "I liked the colour," she reasoned.

"The colour is _awful_," Damon muttered. He waved his fingers dismissively, his eyes never leaving Bella and Edward. "Reminds me of jaundice."

Caroline rolled her eyes and looked back to the mirror, twisting in the reflection of it. "Oh, that's nice," she breathed sarcastically.

"Look, you didn't live through a jaundice endemic, okay? Trust me when I say this: there is a reason yellow turns me off."

"Well, I'm not wearing it for you," Caroline answered smartly, with a biting grin.

Damon's hand paused in turning a page and for a moment he said nothing. "So who are you wearing it for?" he asked a second later.

Caroline pouted and then stuck her tongue out at him. "_None_ of your business."

"Explain to me why you're not taking me?" he said, finally tearing his attention away from Forks, Washington to look at her.

She snorted in disbelief. "Be-_cause_," she drawled dramatically, "my _mother_ will be there. She'd freak out if I came with you – you're like…old."

"You think?" Damon asked wryly.

"You know what I mean – you look older than me. How old were you when you died, anyway?"

"Twenty-five," Damon answered, not one to be deterred. "Your mother loves me," he pointed out.

"Think she'll love the fact that you've violated me in practically every way imaginable?"

Damon pouted with sparkling blue eyes. "You give me too much credit," he purred. "Caroline," he said a moment later, "I have to get into that party."

She shrugged, "So go with Stefan."

Now it was his turn to roll his eyes. "Please tell me you didn't suggest I be a third wheel on my baby brother's date."

"Oh, come on. He's going with Elena."

"So?"

Caroline stopped fussing with her hair and looked at Damon's reflection in the mirror. "So…everyone loves Elena."

"Feeling sorry for yourself?" he murmured.

"Hardly," she answered softly. But she was totally lying.

"It's only fitting," Damon answered glibly. "Everyone loves Stefan, too."

Caroline made a vomiting motion in the mirror and heard Damon's chuckle. "Don't they just make you sick?"

Damon nodded emphatically. "They _do_," he agreed with another curt nod. "So let's go to this party and ruin their fun."

Caroline gave another sighing laugh. "Nice try. I'm going solo."

_"Whatever," Damon muttered, leaving it for the time being. He turned his eyes back to the book. After a few minutes of reading in silence, he growled and lowered the book. "What's so great about this Bella girl?" he huffed._

_Caroline giggled from where she was digging through her jewellery box. "You have to read the whole series."_

_"Not likely," Damon scoffed, picking the novel up again. "Since when did vampires __**sparkle**__?" he asked, more to himself than anything._

_"How come you don't sparkle?"_

_Damon didn't miss a beat. "Because in the real world vampires burst into flames in the sunlight."_

_"You don't," Caroline pointed out. "And neither does Stefan."_

_Damon lifted his left hand and flashed the heavy silver ring at her. "Magic rings. Lets us walk in the sun. Nifty little spell." He set the book aside and peeled himself off of the bed again and moved to stand behind her. Immediately his eyes captured hers in the mirror's reflection and he wouldn't let her waver. Instead, he held her stare and let his pupils spin wide as his hands spanned her waist._

_Slowly, he dipped his head and pressed his lips to her bare shoulder, a move that made her gasp audibly. At her sides, her fingers curled into fists and she fought his will with hers – but hers was fading fast. Her eyes closed; she heard Damon murmur, "look at me," and so she did, gazing steadily at him in the mirror. "Please take me to the Founder's Party," he said thickly, feeling her blood turn sluggish in her veins._

She blinked slowly, almost owlishly, but nodded all the same. "Why don't you come with me?" she heard herself ask, even as the words stung her tongue. This was a bad idea.

Damon's fingers went to the zipper at the side of her dress and he peeled it open, letting the yellow tulle fall to the floor. "Not if you're wearing this dress," he surmised darkly. His palms skidded down her flanks and anchored her hips. "The blue one," he breathed against her neck before placing a chaste kiss there. "You bought that with me in mind, didn't you?"

Has she? Subconsciously, perhaps she had – she most certainly hadn't been thinking of him when Elena mentioned picking up something blue. But now as she turned her head and gazed at the indigo satin that had draped so well over her subtle curves, she couldn't help the warmth that spread through her thighs along with Damon's words. She nodded dumbly, and stepped out of the pool of yellow at her feet, kicking it aside thoughtlessly. His eyes raked over her naked reflection greedily and Caroline was tempted to cover herself. He wouldn't let her move; he said as much with the threat in his eyes and the heaviness of his hands on her.

He of course didn't need to see her in the blue dress to know she'd look amazing in it – it matched her eyes, after all. When she made to move for the closet, he stopped her, held her still, and compelled her to continue to stare in the mirror. She watched his hands glide up her hips and softly cup her breasts. He nuzzled her neck and then her ear, and his breath tickled her skin as he spoke in barely a whisper: "Give me your hands."

_NO!_ She froze for a second and once more found his stare in the mirror. She whispered his name, her breath fogging the mirror as she did. But then her hands moved and his grip was firm and purposeful as he guided her to press her palms flatly against the mirror. She didn't dare move. Seconds later his hands were gone and moving once more along her torso, skimming her hips before one settled on her thigh and the other stopped right on her lower belly.

She saw her nostrils flare and her pupils went wide as she stared at him. "Watch me," he breathed, and then he cast his eyes down to watch what she felt: his fingers, so clever and thick, slid over her and right inside of her, and his thumb settled on her clit snugly.

Her breath sailed sharply out of her and it spread along the glass once more. With a shake of her shoulders she inhaled and stared at where he touched her, her eyes flickering from the mirror and back again.

"Caroline," he murmured gently, his lips brushing her ear. She looked at him in the mirror. He continued. "I need you to do something for me." He twisted his wrist and sent another surge of pleasure rippling between her thighs.

"Anything," she gasped.

Damon smirked. "Imagine the possibilities," he mused, almost to himself. Then, he shook his head fondly and then gently turned Caroline so that she was facing him, her back pressed to the cool surface of the mirror. He peered down at her, smirking at how her thighs clenched, trying to regain some sort of contact with him. When she reached for him he chuckled darkly and used one hand to press her back against the mirror. His other hand skimmed up from her belly, between her breasts, and finally cupped her cheek and drew gentle circles on the soft skin there. "Just how good are you at getting this nose," and he tapped the end of her nose gently, "into where it doesn't belong, hmm?"

She swallowed and nodded instantly. "I'm the best," she breathed cockily. Her hands went to curl in his dark hair and she pulled his mouth down to his and kissed him briefly. "What did you have in mind?"

* * *

_"Are you sure you don't mind helping to set up, Caroline? I would have thought you would be out getting your hair done or something." Carol Lockwood smiled wanly at Caroline, no doubt remembering her son's strange behaviour with the Forbes girl only a week ago._

_Actually, getting her hair done sounded like a great idea, but she couldn't seem to make herself leave the Lockwood dining room where she was clutching a checklist and running over last minute details with the rest of the set up crew. "It's okay, Mrs. Lockwood," Caroline assured. "I'm a whiz with organizing others." She casually cast her eyes down to the list and tapped her pencil thoughtfully. "Where is the artefact display again?" She inquired genuinely._

_Carol pointed to the main winding staircase. "The upper parlour. That reminds me – they were supposed to replace the halogen bulbs in the two cases there – one is housing your great-grandfather's badge. Could you check to make sure that all the lights in the room are in working order?"_

_Caroline smiled triumphantly and scribbled Carol's request down on her list. "No problem, Mrs. Lockwood." She checked her watch. "I'm just about finished down here, anyway. It's getting late and I do actually have to get my hair done," she finished with a little laugh. "I'll check in with you as soon as I'm done with the upper parlour."_

_Carol flashed another smile and then the doorbell rang. "Oh, that must be the caterers. I have to go!" Mrs. Lockwood made a dash for the front entry and Caroline made her way up the curving staircase._

_There was less activity up here, for certain – she only passed a few of the crew on the stairs, and then she was padding into the dark panelled parlour, remembering it from her younger days when she'd attended Tyler's birthday parties. It had been cleared of Mayor Lockwood's sturdy desk and in its place stood several expensive looking glass display cases. Along the walls were pedestals with other memorabilia; the walls were covered in old sepia tone pictures and letters, menus, maps, and other written records from the Founding Days._

_She found the hope chest of Honoria Fell almost immediately, and seconds later she was running her fingers along the smooth wood, polished from years of handling. Damon hadn't told her why this was so important, and all she knew for sure was that she had to tell him that yes, it was here, next to the window that overlooked the gardens. She scanned the rest of the room and made note that all things electronic seemed to be working just fine now. With that observation, Caroline turned and sped back down the steps. She met Mrs. Lockwood at the door. "All done," Caroline announced brightly. "See you later tonight, Mrs. Lockwood!" She handed over her clipboard and was out the door before the Mayor's wife could respond._

_"It's in the upper parlour – that's just up the stairs…" Caroline began as soon as she had Damon on the other end of the phone._

_"And to the left, I know, I've been in the house before. I need you to get me invited in," Damon reminded her._

_"Pick me up at six – don't be late," she warned before hanging up smartly._

_Damon grinned and slipped the phone into the pocket of his dress pants. Making his way to his closet, he noted Stefan as he entered the room, clutching a bottle of Damon's favourite scotch and two glasses. He looked over his younger brother, noting the shirt and tie. Shit. He hated ties, but he'd be damned if his baby brother out-styled him. Scowling at his shirts, Damon began digging for something infinitely better than what Stefan was wearing._

_He heard the liquor hit the bottom of a glass and then smelled the smoky peat of it. "Kind of poetic, don't you think?"_

_"What's that," Damon murmured, dong his best to sound bored._

_"Going to the anniversary of the Founder's Party – I mean, we were at the original one," Stefan explained conversationally._

_Damon smirked at his shirts, trying to read Stefan's course of action. The younger Salvatore was up to something – he'd entered Damon's bedroom voluntarily. Stefan had pretty much avoided him for the last few weeks since Damon had arrived, but now he was chatting the elder Salvatore up like they'd always been this chummy. _

_"Ooh, yeah, isn't it just all so fascinating? My heart is all a-flutter. I may even have butterflies," Damon deadpanned as he turned with a shirt in each hand. "Stop being such a girl and help me decide," he snapped, holding first the black shirt up and then the indigo one._

_"You're calling me a girl?" Stefan groused with amusement._

_Damon grinned tightly. "Aw, Stefan, you cracked a funny. Did it hurt__?"_

_Stefan chose to ignore his older brother. Still, he waved away the black shirt Damon was holding. "All black? That's a little cliché, even for you. Are you taking someone?"_

_Rolling his eyes, Damon hung the black shirt back in the closet and pulled the indigo from the hanger. He draped it over his shoulders__, and proceeded to lift ties one by one, trying to find a match. "I am," Damon muttered, amused at Stefan's apparent attempt at bonding. He glanced to Stefan's reflection and watched him pour. He considered Stefan's look once more, and thought about the tie. With a final shake of his head, Damon cast the silks aside and busied himself buttoning his shirt, leaving the top two open at the throat, smirking at his ridiculous good looks. Let Stefan depend on the 'rebel school boy' look, complete with tie and coiffed hair. Damon oozed 'I just got fucked' – messy hair, unbuttoned shirt – and the irony of it was that it did get him fucked. He turned and looked at Stefan._

_"Caroline?" the younger brother asked, crossing the room with a glass of scotch in hand for Damon._

_Damon flicked his gaze from the glass to his brother's green eyes and held them for a split second. What are you up to? Stefan's jaw shivered – barely a movement, and Damon probably wouldn't have noticed had he been a human – and Damon never wavered. He took the glass and held it in salute with Stefan. "Caroline," he conferred calmly. "To tonight," Damon proposed, holding it out._

_Stefan nodded and smiled gently. "To tonight," he repeated, and their glasses met with a soft clink._

_Damon smirked and raised his glass towards his mouth. At the last second he twisted his wrist and dumped the contents out, and then dropped the glass to the carpet with a thud. "Nice try," he growled, brushing past Stefan to pick up the bottle. "But you'll have to do better than that. Really, Stefan," he sighed, almost disappointed. "Poisoning the scotch with vervain? This isn't my first rodeo." He frowned and grabbed the bottle, clucking his tongue with annoyance as he read the label. "This is a two hundred dollar bottle of scotch," Damon announced. "Tragic," he chuckled sourly. Checking his watch, his eyes widened dramatically. "Is that the time? I've gotta run – see you at the party?" He smirked once more at his brother and sped out, heading outside to the car. _

_It was only five when he got to Caroline's. He had used the time to get out of watching Stefan try to explain such an underhanded, aggressive move. It pissed him off immensely, and Damon couldn't help but think that Stefan had done it for one reason, and one reason alone: to keep Elena safe. Ironic, really, when Stefan was keeping Elena safe from the woman he'd stolen from Damon. Now he was sitting in his charger outside of Caroline's house, an hour early and wondering why he'd come here when he could have gone to – _

_"Damon?"_

_He was startled from his thoughts – not an easy task – by the Sheriff's voice. "Liz," he exclaimed, dazzling her with a smile as he stared up at her. "I was hoping I'd catch you." He noted the uniform and frowned thoughtfully. "Working tonight? I was hoping to see you in a dress." Flirting with Liz was always fun; she took herself pretty seriously but could banter with him well enough._

_Liz blushed and looked away. "Yeah, well someone has to keep the place safe."_

_"Well, I can't think of a finer woman for the job. Listen, I know about your arrangement with Uncle Zach – with the vervain? He's gone out of state for a spell and well, he won't be able to deliver for the time. I'll be taking over in his place – if that's all right with you?"_

_Liz nodded, raking a curious gaze over Damon. "So you know about…"_

_Damon shrugged. "Of course I do. I'm a Salvatore." He smiled brightly and Liz answered with a smile of her own. Damon leaned out of the window a little further and turned up the charm. "I don't suppose I can interest you in a drink with me down at the grill before you go on duty?"_

_Liz shook her head and sighed. "Sorry. I've got a couple of hours before I need to be on duty and I'm just going to open a bottle of wine and get dinner ready. Would you like to…" She gestured towards the house._

_This could work to his advantage. And it would make Caroline mad as hell. "You know what, Liz, I'd love to." Grabbing his suit jacket he hopped from the car and followed the Sheriff up the front walk._

* * *

TBC


	17. Chapter 17

_A/N: I don't normally offer a lot of explanation to the majority of my references to things but I think it's important to note that I picture Caroline's dress for the founder's party as completely different than the one the character wore in the actual episode. Here's why: Elena's dress was a really cute, spicy little number that was red and gold and cut to flatter her. Her hair is styled with some volume and tussle, making her appear a little sexier than her everyday jeans and sneakers. Caroline, on the other hand, is a fashion nut and yet she gets dressed in an absolute horror of a dress (in my opinion). Powder blue with an awful crocheted shawl, and her hair done in a half crown braid? So, if you please, Caroline's dress is something sleek and sexy, and a nice dark blue – probably with a halter neck to show of her amazing shoulders. And her hair is blown out in glam blonde waves. Because it's my story. Sticks tongue out and contemplates another glass of scotch (yes, I drink scotch when I write Damon)…_

_Anyway – wow, you guys are great, truly, and I love getting each and every one of your reviews. Like I've said before, they are my bread and butter because I don't own the characters, but I do own the plot TWISTS. The TWISTS, mind you, and nothing more. Flexing of creative muscles for non profit…there, I think that will cover off everything._

_A lot of you have asked if I'll be writing a sequel to 'The Perfection of Death', or to this, so I wanted to clear up that these are actually a part of a trilogy: 'Bruise, Dredge, and Drain' is technically first, followed by 'The Perfection of Death'. The third instalment will be a big challenge for me – it's a future fic, taking place about eighty years or so after the events in Mystic Fall during the series timeline. There will be a lot of OC's in it, I think. I'm not sure when I'll get started on that as my new venture is really pumping in my veins in a mad sort of way. 'Strappato e Spurgo' is doing really well with what I like to think of as a cult following. A LOT of Delena out there right now…like, A LOT…and I'm not okay with that. I need to read something else! So that's why I write it. Exercise my demons, so to speak._

* * *

_Damon was on his second glass of red wine and laughing at one of Liz's anecdotes from when she was a teenager. He loved reminiscing with people because…well, for the most part, he'd done all of the same things. Liz stood at the stove, her gun belt and holster replaced by a smart black apron and a wooden spoon. For a girl of Irish descent, she made a very decent chicken picatta by the smell of it. Damon actually found himself getting hungry and he stood, wine in hand, and wandered over to the island closer to the stove, inhaling deeply._

_Then he heard the soft click of the front door. The hood fan over the stove was too loud for Liz to hear it, but Damon picked it up and sure enough, he heard the faint thump of a heartbeat. _

_"It may surprise you," Liz started again, "but your uncle Zach and I went to high school together. He was a few grades ahead of me, but I partied with him."_

_Caroline's heartbeat paused for a moment. "Really?" Damon replied. He had to hide his smile when the girl's heartbeat began racing again._

_"Actually," Liz said after a pause. "It's funny. In high school, Zach dealt weed. Now he deals vervain."_

_Caroline was very close now, just on the other side of the wall, but Liz was totally unaware. "Does it actually work, Damon? I mean, you said you have experience with this stuff, right? Does it harm vampires?"_

_He honestly took his time answering. "It does," he affirmed._

_"Mom! Hi!" Caroline sang bright as she burst into the kitchen._

_Liz sputtered and put a quick hand over her heart. "Caroline, you scared me!"_

_"Sorry. I didn't think you'd be home?" She trailed off and glanced over at Damon, shooting him a quick glare of disbelief._

_"Caroline, you remember Mr. Salvatore?"_

_Still looking at Damon, Caroline made a petulant face at the title her mother gave him. "I'm not ten, mom. Yes, I remember Damon." She made a point of using his first name._

_Liz gave a quick sigh. "Are we going to start this in front of company?"_

_With another glare at him she looked back at her mom with a haughty gaze. "Nope." She sailed past them and up the back stairs to the second floor of the house._

_Liz stared at the ceiling for a moment, counting under her breath. She made it to 'four' before a door slammed overhead. "Don't have kids," Liz muttered before turning back to the stove._

_Damon smiled tightly and raised his eyebrows, trying to keep from laughing. "Noted," was all he said and then he sat once more and sipped his wine._

_The phone rang a moment later and Damon took over with the spoon as Liz took the call in the other room. She returned seconds later, already pulling her apron from over her head. "That was the station. There's a problem with parking and ground security and I need to make sure that there are no bottlenecks." She cursed and grabbed her belt from the peg on the back door before turning back to the kitchen and frowning at Damon standing at her stove. "You should stay. Someone should enjoy this." Her brown eyes flicked overhead again before landing on Damon. "I don't think she__ will." _

_Damon watched the Sheriff march to the foot of the stairs and crane her neck up. "Caroline! I'm leaving now – are you okay to get to the party?"_

_Her daughter's reply was the sudden blast of hard rock rattling with a punishing beat. Liz growled and marched up the first step before Damon reached out and snagged her arm. Liz turned and stared at him curiously. "Don't worry about it, I can take her." He heard the stutter and stall of Liz's heart; the sweet thunder of uncertainty, and then he shifted his smirk to a pleasant smile. "She goes to school with my brother, Sheriff. And I'm not a monster." He even managed to sound offended with his last words._

"_I'd better ask her first – "_

"_It's fine," Damon waved it away with a little chuckle. He gazed heavily into the Sheriff's black coffee eyes and spoke smoothly: "She won't mind." One second passed. And then another._

_Liz's face suddenly broke into a brilliant smile, as if she was suddenly realizing that it was logical that Damon take Caroline to the party. That must be where Caroline got her smile from. "Thank you so much, Damon. I'll see you later?" She breezed towards the door. _

_Caroline's stubbornness__, however, must have come from her father._

* * *

_He slowly climbed the stairs, hearing Caroline sing along half-heartedly with the lyrics as she rummaged around her room for something. Rounding the corner off the stairs he came to her room. The door had been left open a few inches and, feeling like a total sleaze – but a sleaze about to get lucky – he slid along the hallway, blending into the shadows, and peered into the girl's bedroom._

_It was a setup – it __**had**__ to have been! There was no way that he was lucky enough to find her like this: black thigh highs and nothing else, bent over at the waist and rummaging through the bottom of her closet. Every where else, she was naked, wonderfully, creamily, naked. Her scent was lemon-fresh and heavy and before he could stop himself he'd stepped into her room and shut the door behind him, the sound startling her to turn suddenly._

_But she didn't stand and she didn't try to cover herself. Instead, she shifted her weight back and forth from foot to foot while she gazed at him with searing blue eyes._

Oh, he was a fucking _asshole_! She hated the fact that he had just compelled her mother, _again_, to leave her in his 'care'. She hated it about as much as the way her blood boiled in her veins when he looked at her like that – she'd seen him like this before, and she hadn't walked away unmarked. He was _so_ not marring her skin before she wore this dress! She had barely moved a millimetre before Damon's voice slid out like a cold blade.

"Don't move."

She froze instantly. Her heart was in her throat – almost literally. The blood was starting to rush into her head, bent over like this, but she couldn't move. She was too busy watching Damon stalk across her room, his hand going to his belt and pulling it open. All of a sudden, she was panting, and her pussy clenched tightly, and then again when Damon's eyes widened at the movement. His tongue darted out along his lips and Caroline moaned hotly as another pulse of warmth and wetness slid out of her.

He prowled casually and stopped right behind her, the fabric of his pants brushing against the back of her thighs while his fingertips ghosted along the soft skin of her ass. Her hands reached out automatically and gripped the sides of a section of closet organizer and spread her feet a little wider.

Above her he chuckled and she felt so absolutely _dirty_, the way she presented herself to him. But when he didn't move another inch and continued to watch her, she became restless and reached one hand between her thighs and stroked the tip of her first finger across her clit. Squealing, she rose up onto her toes and heard Damon's breathy sigh from above.

_She was a mind reader. There was no other explanation – how did she always know the right thing to do, the right thing to make him just fucking __**want**__ her? Jesus, she was fucking __**wet**__, he could see it on the tips of her fingers as they made another pass, and then another, pushing a tiny bit more into that tight little pussy of hers with every stroke. She was moaning too, and his name fell from her lips several times. Blinking, he unhooked his trousers and slid the zipper down, before stepped out of the wool and folding them gingerly over the back of her chair. He may have the most amazing orgasm tonight, but that didn't mean he was going to show up at the Founder's Party with a wrinkled suit._

_He hissed as she sank two fingers into her tight sheath, and she moaned at the obviously tight fit. She was driving herself crazy and loving every minute of it. Her torso shook, her shoulders quaked, and her hips shimmied as she chased down her orgasm._

_Okay, she wasn't waiting for him! Making quick work of his shirt (he almost tore a button out at the end) he then hooked his thumbs into his boxer briefs and slid them down his thighs hurriedly. As he reached for her, the veins below his eyes erupted. His fingers clamped down like iron, and she immediately bucked into his hands._

_"Don't," she breathed suddenly, "don't even think about biting me tonight, Damon."_

_He paused briefly, considering her demands. It wouldn't do him any good to show up with Caroline all banged to shit – Elena would freak out and that would make Stefan do the same, and Damon was __**not**__ in the mood for three moody teenagers, if he was counting Caroline. But he still wanted a taste and so he sank down to his knees and dragged his lips up from behind her knee to the swell on the delicate inside of her thigh. "I promise it won't show," Damon rasped before snaking his tongue out to swipe across her glistening folds._

_"Fuck-Damon!" Caroline squealed before bouncing up on her toes and then thrusting back into his face._

_He chuckled proudly into her flesh, rolling his tongue and teeth over her languidly. His fangs pricked her here and there, and soon the tang and honey of her sex and the thick copper of her blood mingled on his tongue and sent one of his hands down to his burgeoning erection. Gripping it roughly he grunted, squeezed and stroked, and then found a rough and sharp rhythm that matched the flick and roll of his tongue against her hole and the constant numbing stroke of his thumb on her clit_

Damon Salvatore could work a pussy. Caroline's breath hitched sharply as she danced on the heady waves of white hot pleasure rushing up and down her spine. Suddenly, his tongue stabbed deep and sure, and she tightened and gasped, and then spilled slow and sweetly in his mouth. Delirious with pleasure, she could only let him work on her again and again. She was greedy, and watched with lust and satisfaction as he stroked his cock with a snug fist.

He was fucking hot when he did this; she relished in it, and found it delightful that Damon was as much an exhibitionist as he was a voyeur. As if he sensed her watching – and he probably did with the way she was looking at him – he thumbed his head, moaning as he swiped the moisture there around the solid head of his cock. He never missed a beat on Caroline's pussy, either, and slowly he brought them both to a simmer.

He stood next, the steely head of his length sliding against her and pushing in already. Her teeth sank into her lip and she cried out, dancing up on her toes again. Tasting blood in her mouth she shut her eyes and whimpered as another bursting shock of pleasure ran through her. Only when Damon's cool, sure fingertips caught her hips and gently stroked the skin there did she settle. His sigh came next, followed by dirty, hot words about how he loved fucking her pussy, how she was so tight, and fit him perfectly.

Suddenly, she was half full of him and his words choked off, as he froze. Gently, she worked her muscles around him, clenching and tingling all over, until she was lightly bucking her hips back in an attempt to create friction. A moan shuddered out of her lungs, and became louder as Damon sank deeper, and then deeper _still_, until his fingers curled into her hips and pulled her back flush against him. There – right in the belly she felt him and her mouth opened in a silent cry as she fought to calm herself.

_"I'm not going to last tool long," Damon sighed roughly. It was the truth – the girl felt incredible, __**still**__, and if anything he had grown addicted to her. Beneath his hands, Caroline wiggled and let out a frustrated groan. With a wicked grin, Damon stroked long and deep once, pulled back and did it twice, three times, and on the fourth stroke he broke apart slowly, and his toes curled in his socks against the thick pile of the carpet. Slowly, his head arched back to the ceiling and let out a rather blissful moan._

_"Oh!" Caroline murmured, surprised. Then she giggled and her ass shook beneath his palms, making the blast of his orgasm roll up his shaft and between his hips again. He heaved another groan and slapped her ass hard, putting an end to her giggles._

_"That's a tight little pussy you've got, Blondie." His smirk grew as she clenched around him with a choked gasp. He hissed – she was hot, too, and so wet. The thought of watching his cock slide into her made him twitch with the first stirring of renewed arousal. And she groaned at his reaction – she wanted it as badly as he did._

_He rivalled Baryshnikov with his next move and managed to slip from Caroline's body, turn her and gently place her in the middle of within the span of a second. His fingers snuck between her thighs and groped her, twisting her legs open finally and then sliding two fingers into her tight, wet hole. He groaned at her slickness and hovered over her, covering her body as much as he could, and he worked her over with his fingers, stroking deep and sure, curling against her on the down stroke, until she was trembling into his hand._

_She gasped his name, over and over, and he glanced up at her, watching as she crept closer to another climax. Every swipe of his thumb was faster than the last, and her eyes flashed brightly in the light overhead. A hot blush had spread out along her skin, and she was pinkest between her thighs and at the tips of her breasts and cheekbones. Purring, Damon leaned down and swiped his tongue up her clit and then moved to her lips and kissed her, letting her taste the both of them mingled on his tongue._

_"Come for me again," Damon said hotly, "and then you can have my cock."_

He said cock – oh, the way he said cock made her delirious and she felt herself coming before she could think of saying anything back. "Good girl," he breathed coolly. His fingers slowed but he still slid them back and forth gently.

She bit at her lips, her eyes crossing at the delicious friction he could create inside of her. No one had managed to make her feel like this, and she was beginning to doubt if anyone ever could again. She wasn't stupid – she knew that this wasn't going to last. There was a reason Damon Salvatore had come back to Mystic Falls, and it was the same reason her mother had been busy as of late. It had something to do with the Party, the Comet, with the whole town itself. Something was here, and it was something that Damon desperately wanted – but it wasn't her.

His lips descended on her softly and Caroline gasped at the gentle pressure, and the sweet wetness of Damon's mouth. It tasted like blood, like her, and mostly like him: sweet and smoke and spice like bourbon. His fingers left her and she couldn't help the way her hips twisted up into his in protest. He murmured something against her lips and then wound his tongue with hers as his hands cupped her thighs and shifted her to cradle him. Suddenly, she found herself caught in his gaze and she swallowed thickly.

_She had to stop looking at him like this – with that knowledge that was beyond her years, with the sweetness of her curiosity and her fierce loyalty to those she loved. "Caroline," he hear his voice murmur gently, "I…can't keep you," he explained slowly._

"I know." He'd surprised her – she hadn't actually expected him to come out and say it. She expected him to drop her like a hot potato, and she expected to be drained to the point of delirium and compelled into having absolutely no memory of it. That would suck – to have no memory of being ravished so completely by a creature like Damon. She hoped it wouldn't come down to compulsion. Her blue eyes flicked down between their bodies and she grasped him with her hand, squeezing him gently and drawing a groan from his mouth. With a few quick pumps he was hard and ready in her hand, and she lifted her hips and bent her knees back. "You can have me for now," she decided, and she pulled him into her body with a smile.

* * *

inkprincess31: A jealous Damon, you say? I raise my glass to you...TBC...


	18. Chapter 18

_A/N So, changing things up here for the last few chapters. "The Perfection of Death" is told mostly from Caroline's POV (with a little chapter for Damon) and it's told in present tense. I decided to go that route with the wrap up to this fic. You may also notice that while the basic premise of the Founder's Party is here, I've made some changes that are important to the flow of the story and my plot. You'll know them when you spot them._

_Damon's POV in italics; _Caroline's POV in regular.

* * *

I'm pretty sure I'm going to die tonight. There was something very final about Damon's words from earlier, when he was pressed deep and tight within me. He said he couldn't keep me, and it makes me wonder if maybe we'd met at some other time under other circumstances, it might be different. This fucked up thing between him and I might have actually…_worked_. But this is Mystic Falls, and I'm Caroline Forbes and for a long time, things have been skewed. It's this place, it's these things happening right now, and I don't know what the end result will be.

His knuckles land on the other side of the bathroom door before I hear him say, "It's six-thirty. Hurry up."

Fuck, I didn't think it was _that_ late! I hear the roar of his car gunning to life seconds later, and then he taps the horn for good measure. I run my fingers through my hair and for once and satisfied with my attempt at bed head, and then swipe my lips with a glossy peach color. Then I give myself a ballsy stare in the mirror and square my shoulders, taking one last look at the deep blue satin dress that draped gently over my curves. I'm fucking _hot_.

Damon doesn't look bad either, standing there at the passenger door, smirking at me as I come down the step. He really can be sweet when he wants to be. He flashes a wink as I pass him and closes the door once I'm seated, and then he's at his door, and then inside, and we're pulling away from the curve and heading back through town.

At the intersection of Fourth Avenue and Partridge Street, he glances at me and his lips curve into another rare, sincere smile. "You look _hot_, Caroline," he points out conversationally. "You're telling me that you didn't do this for _me_?"

And then I remember that it's Damon _fucking_ Salvatore sitting beside me. "You're not used to being shut down, are you Damon?"

He blinks – and he does it so owlishly that I have to hold back a snicker. Then his scowl falls into place, and he does that thing with those blue eyes that makes me squirm in my seat. Jesus, I really should have worn panties. But no, I had decided to forgo them – I didn't want any lines.

"I just got a blow job from you forty minutes ago. I don't think I got 'shut down'."

"I'm not talking about that, _ass_," I seethe. And I wasn't. "I'm talking about you not being able to handle the fact that even though you fuck me – and you do it well, I'll admit it – you can't take me as your date to the Founder's Party!"

And for a split second – a tiny fraction of a moment – self-doubt flickers in his features. "You're delusional," he mutters. The light changes green and we continue on our way.

The rest of the ride is silent. When we pull into the gates of the Lockwood Mansion, I spy my mother on the stairs leading up to the kitchen entrance – she's deep in conversation with a pair of her deputies, and even from here I know that she's stressed. I can tell by the line of her hunched shoulders and the way she's squinting, even behind the standard-issue aviator sunglasses. I don't even wait for Damon to open the door for me, and when I stand from the car and shove the door closed behind me, he glares at me for a moment before sliding a pair of Ray Bans over his eyes and nodding towards the front walk.

"Come on," he grunts, and he takes my elbow in his hand and steers me towards the door. The line up is thirty deep, at least, and it's like a wedding party receiving line at the front door: Mayor Lockwood, flanked by his wife Carol, and of course his dark eyed son, Tyler. My guts do this funny little flip when I see the latter and I find myself grasping Damon's hand tightly.

The vampire pauses beside me and I look up at him to find him watching me over the rims of his sunglasses. "Everything okay?" he murmurs darkly, before casting his eyes back to the Lockwood family.

"Fine," I huff, turning my attention back to the gathered guests. I see Elena near the front, fussing with her dark hair as Stefan's arm gathers her around her waist loosely. He leans and puts his head close to Elena's, and then suddenly her laughter erupts and she tosses her hair and smiles up at the younger Salvatore with her dazzling smile.

"Ugh," Damon growls, and I look over my shoulder to see him roll his eyes. "They actually _do_ make me want to throw up a little bit." He smiles wryly and then scans the gathering crowd.

I look back to the line, and then to the Lockwoods. Tyler's dark gaze finds me and it makes me jolt, half shocked, half suddenly very aware that he was looking for me. And now that he's found me? I watch him say something to his mother and then nod in my direction, and then he's down the steps two at a time and crossing the lawn, doing his duty as the mayor's son and greeting people with a slick smile and a handshake.

"Hey," he greets casually as he approaches me. Damon's hand suddenly squeezes mine and I watch as the vampire's attention is torn from the casual surveillance of the crowd and focused on me and Tyler.

"Hey," Damon all but growls back. He even manages to pull me a bit closer and Tyler frowns at this, but doesn't even flinch as he turns his attention to me again.

His dark eyes drag down the front of my dress, linger on my breasts and my hips, and then trail down to my feet before sliding back up again. "You look hot, Caroline," he says in a warm voice that isn't entirely off-putting.

"That's original," Damon mutters into my ear, sarcasm heavy on both words.

I elbow him discreetly and smile back at Tyler. He doesn't look bad himself, all dressed up in a light coloured suit and tie. "Thanks," I answer.

"So…I thought you said you weren't bringing a date?" And Tyler glares at Damon again and I think I hear the vampire growl. But Tyler's not backing down; in fact, he's moved a step closer, causing Damon to push up against my back and puff up his chest – I can feel it against my shoulders.

"I _didn't_," I say pointedly, shrugging Damon off and shooting him a narrow gaze. "He's my ride," I explain, giving Tyler another winning smile.

At that moment, I'm pretty sure I hear Damon choke on a breath and his grip loosens as if burned him. "Later," he mumbles, stalking up the lawn towards the double doors leading into the dining room.

"What was that all about?" Tyler asks, one dark eyebrow cocking lowly.

"Hmm? Oh…I don't know. He's moody." I shrug.

Tyler's mouth forms a grim line as he takes over Damon's spot beside me. "What is, like, thirty?"

"I'm twenty-six!" Damon suddenly calls over his shoulder before he disappears around the back of the house.

Tyler smirks. "Still way too old for you."

"Tyler," I sigh, shaking my head, "you don't know the half of it."

* * *

_Her ride? What the __**fuck**__ was that supposed to mean? I wasn't about to stick around and watch as she tried to humiliate me in front of that little Lockwood shit. I do __**not**__ like the way he's looking at Caroline, but Liz's frantic wave from near the garden entrance catches my attention._

"_Later," I grouse, and she spares me one quick glance that sears right through me. Then she's back talking to Tyler and smiling that vapid little smile up at him while he makes some crack about my age._

_I do __**not**__ look thirty. "I'm twenty-six!" I yell back. "Little asshole," I finish to myself._

"_Hi – you made it okay?" Liz's question was accompanied by a motherly frown in her daughter's direction. "She's usually so mature."_

"_It's okay," I shrug, but really, it's not. The problem, Liz, is that Caroline __**is**__ mature, and way beyond her years. She knows how to play the game. And that makes her vampire bait. But I don't say that. Instead, I switch to concerned human mode. "What's going on?"_

_Liz glanced around, checking for prying eyes and ears, and then she stepped a little closer. "They think there's a vampire here tonight."_

"_Wait – what?" I sound surprised because I __**am**__. "Who said that?"_

_Liz grits her teeth. "The Council, Damon. There's been a lot of weird things going on and one of the Council members received a message that there would be a vampire tonight, and that security should be extra tight. There are a lot of artefacts from the founding days here tonight, and some of them may be more…valuable than others."_

_Intriguing. I wonder what other little trinkets were in the mansion. I let my gaze sail up to where I know the upper parlour window is, and for a moment, I'm lost in a memory of one of the many girls that worked in the Lockwood household. I was barely twenty, and it was Christmas. If memory served me correctly – and if the current Mayor of Mystic Falls hadn't found it necessary to corrupt classic architecture – there was a servant's closet adjacent from the main parlour entrance. There was barely enough room in there for two people, but it might come in handy if it was still up there. Liz is still talking._

"…_know that someone is a vampire?"_

"_Hmm?" I glanced at the early evening sun, still high for this time in September. "Well," I begin smartly, absently rubbing my thumb over my ring, "for starters, it's still sunny out. Any vampire out here right now would burst into flames."_

"_What about the invitation clause?" Liz asks as we step towards the back doors. _

_I feel the hairs on the back of my neck rise and I resist looking at her. We are getting closer to the doors and I haven't been in the Lockwood mansion since I was human. If I had a heart, I'm sure it would be beating wildly right now. I needed to get out of this, and quickly – _

"_Liz," a voice calls, and we both look up to see Carol Lockwood opening the back doors wide with a smile to match. "Richard thought that we might speed things along by having guests come through two doors." She motions to two of Liz's deputies already standing by and trying their best to look stern. Then Carol's eyes land on me. "Liz, I didn't think you were bringing a date."_

_Liz laughs, and it is a sound that I know well – Caroline's laugh is the same. I smile sweetly as Liz gestures towards me with a sigh. "I wish, Carol. This is Damon Salvatore."_

_Carol Lockwood's eyes light up and she descends the steps, holding her hand out already. "Salvatore? As in Zach Salvatore?"_

"_He's my uncle," I reply smoothly before giving her my most charming smile. "I just happened to be in town at the right time, apparently," I continue, gesturing towards the mansion._

"_Well, we are truly honoured to have a member of the Salvatore family here with us tonight," Carol finishes diplomatically._

"_Two members, actually," Liz pipes up as we arrive at the threshold of the house. "Damon's younger brother Stefan will be here, too. He goes to the high school."_

"_Two Salvatore brothers?" Carol laughs breathily and I know she's casting a line to see if I'll take the bait. She even throws in a toss of her light brown hair for good measure. "What more could we ask for?" And with that, she throws her arm through mine and walks me into the house. "Won't you come in?"_

* * *

TBC


	19. Chapter 19

_For a town that has a history of being diminished by vampires, they are certainly trusting. But then again, who would ever think that a member of the original founding family was actually a vampire? I smirk at my good fortune and step over the threshold and into a bustling household. I take my time noting faces, familiar doorways, and anything else about this house as Carol leads me to the bar. She orders something light and fresh, gin and tonic, and then turns to me._

"_Bourbon. Neat."_

"_A true southern gentleman," Carol purrs, unwrapping her fingers from my arm long enough to hand me my drink. Then she's ushering me through the house again, and she starts dropping the Salvatore name like its making her rich. I meet a lot of descendants of the founding families and find myself stiffening as a painfully familiar face floats by._

"_Who is that?" I ask, nodding at a short, dark haired man no older than thirty five. "He looks familiar."_

_Carol snorts. "He __**should**__. That's Logan Fell, anchor for Mystic Falls Five. You must have seen him on the TV. How long have you been in town for?"_

"_A few weeks," I reply. "That must be it; I've seen him on TV." But it's a lie, and I know it because Logan Fell is the spitting image of his mother Honoria. I know that twisted smirk anywhere, almost as well as I know my own. I make a note to keep tabs on this one._

_I see Stefan – and my chance to extricate myself from Carol's almost star struck status as she parades me around the gathering guests. "Carol, will you excuse me? I see my brother and between him being at school and me being busy with…things (I cringe at my lack of originality), I haven't talked to him for a few days."_

_She bats her eyelashes and I almost feel a breeze. Then she gives me a coy smile and an indifferent shrug. "Of course, Damon. But please be sure to introduce me to Stefan, as well – I'm sure he's just like his older brother." Her voice practically purrs and I know she's hoping that Stefan is as smooth and charming as me._

_The problem is…well, he __**is**__. But I nod and smile widely. "Of course. Thank you for inviting me into your lovely home, Carol. I'm sure I'll enjoy this evening immensely."_

* * *

"You know, for someone who didn't bring that douche bag as a date, you're spending an awful lot of time looking for him."

I glance quickly towards Tyler who merely flashes a wry smile and hands me a glass of champagne. "I'm not looking for him," I reply a little too quickly before taking a sip. I frown at the bubbles and open my mouth to protest.

"Your mother is on the other side of the house herding guests. Just drink it quickly."

Together, we down the champagne in seconds. Tyler collects the empty glasses and sets them on a passing tray.

"So…where's your date?" I ask casually. After all, he'd seen me out in the queue and made his way down to me without leaving a cute co-ed behind with his mom and dad.

He shifts in place and stuffs his hands into the pockets of his suit pants. "Change of plans," he answers tightly. Then his dark gaze flickers for a moment to a spot behind me.

I slyly glance back over my shoulder in time to see Jeremy Gilbert bound into the foyer with Vickie Donovan clinging to his arm. Elena's little brother cleans up nicely – almost _too_ nicely, and I'm half tempted to give him a little wave but he's too enamoured by Matt's sister on his arm, and he looks down at her with such an adoring gaze that I almost go 'awww'.

Then I hear a low, threatening growl. Great, just when I thought I was able to avoid him. I sigh and look back to find Damon. Only…it's just Tyler. And he looks about ready to break something –preferably an appendage on the younger Gilbert's body. "Umm…Tyler?" I ask softly, stepping towards him and setting a hand on his arm.

He shrugs me off and stares down at me with hard, glittering eyes. My stomach does this weird jumpy knot thing, and my blood freezes in my veins. There is only one other person that can make me react with a look like this, and that is Damon. There is something very…off about Tyler, as of late, and I'm starting to wonder if the weirdness of Mystic Falls is starting to catch up to all of us. I take a step back. "I'm going to…go and find…someone…over there," I finish lamely, backing out of the space we're occupying and then turning and scurrying away from Tyler.

* * *

"_Well, I see you wasted no time getting in here," Stefan grouses from where he's found me at the bar._

_I raise my bourbon in salute. "Stuff at home went bad. I was dying for a drink. And Carol Lockwood seems __**very**__ interested in two members of the old Salvatore family. Didn't you get the royal treatment?"_

_His annoyed sigh is enough of an answer – no, Stefan probably hasn't left Elena's side all night. In fact…I look in the immediate area and find her no where to be seen._

"_She's in the ladies' room," Stefan supplies, turning back to the bar and ordering another round of bourbon for him and me. "Damon…what exactly do you have planned for tonight?"_

_I clap Stefan on the back heartily and take a healthy sip of my renewed drink. "Ah, little brother, where is that unrelenting patience you're always throwing around?"_

_He purses his lips grimly. "It tends to wear thin when it comes to you."_

_I've always loved my little brother's dry humour. "Well, that's good to know. I think you may be more interested in the fact that someone has tipped off the local authorities – and therefore the Council – that there is supposed to be a vampire here tonight. Know anything about that?"_

_For a moment, Stefan manages to look hurt, but he covers it with another annoyed scowl. "You think it was me?" he hisses._

"_No, Stefan, I don't think it was you," I sigh, put off by his accusatory tone. "But I could have kept that knowledge to myself."_

"_So why didn't you?"_

_His attitude is puzzling. "Because as much as you might light to think it, I don't hate you so much that I want to see you staked by a member of a vigilante vampire council." I slide closer to him. "Keep your eyes and ears open – let me know if there's something going on."_

_It's Stefan's turn to scowl now and he shakes his head, taking his glass and turning to lean against the bar and stare at the crowd. "I'm not going to play your games, Damon, because I don't know the rules. Like I said before: you're up to something. You don't want to tell me what that is, so I don't see why I should be an active participant."_

"_Fine," I shrug, but inside I'm burning. That's so like Stefan – hold out on anyone if he doesn't like the rules. "Don't help." I pick up my glass and prepare to leave him where he's standing. "But don't expect me to share the spoils with you, either." I smirk as he begins to open his mouth to protest. I don't give him the chance and instead leave him at the bar and follow the scent of Caroline's perfume._

* * *

"What's got you scurrying about?" Damon growls as I collide with him.

I yelp, surprised, and feel his hands close over my arms. He steadies me and watches me with wary blue eyes for a moment before turning his nose in the direction I've come from. Then he glances back down at me and those blue eyes are hard and cold. "Find one of your little friends?" he asks tightly. "Which one? The jock from earlier?"

I yank out of his hold but he spins me expertly and wraps a long arm around my waist and steers me for the stairs. "What does it matter?"

"It matters because you're here with me."

I shake my head. "No, Damon, I'm…"

"Look, I don't know why you're denying it, but you are here with me, Caroline. I drove you here…and I need you to do something for me."

Geez, he's demanding. But he's got his calculating stare fixed to his face and he leads me away from the majority of the guests downstairs and pulls us towards the stairs leading to the upper parlour.

"Caroline! I didn't see you come in! But I see you've met Damon already!" Carol Lockwood appears out of nowhere and beams at the two of us as we pause at the bottom of the steps. She waltzes towards us and takes my arm in a not-so-gentle grip. "Have you danced yet? It's so hard to get anyone to start. You're a cheerleader, and I know I saw Elena around here – I need you girls to get things going here." Without a second thought she steers me back through the crowd and towards the bar. I hear Damon groan in exasperation, but he follows, muttering something under his breath.

"One dance," he grunts, pulling me from Carol's grip and spinning me onto the floor. He shoots a glare over my shoulder and when we turn (he's an amazing dancer) I see that his dark expression is aimed at Stefan, and that Elena is hovering at the younger Salvatore's side. She's watching us as closely as Damon is watching them and then she leans and murmurs something into Stefan's ear. His eyes land on mine and then he's clutching two glasses and winding his way through the dancers that have started to gather.

"Mind if I cut in?"

At first, Damon growls at Stefan's intrusion and his fingers dig into my hip, but then he sees that Stefan's move has left Elena alone. Damon spares me a glance and slides a brief kiss at the corner of my mouth, and then I'm tumbled into Stefan's equally strong – but not nearly as graceful – arms, and he hands me a glass of champagne and spins us out onto the open air dance floor.

"I didn't think you and Damon were coming together."

I roll my eyes and Stefan chuckles before drinking a bit of his champagne. "I take it that Damon thinks you're here with him…but you think otherwise?"

"Why is everyone so interested in my relationship with Damon?" I mutter, staring down into the depths of my untouched champagne.

He has the good grace to let a flicker of confusion cross his brooding features. "What are you talking about?"

I stare at him for a long moment, and he does nothing – I mean, literally, _nothing_. He doesn't breathe, he doesn't move, and he doesn't blink. I lift the delicate glass in my hands and look at it pointedly. "Will it kill him?"

He still doesn't say anything, but he spins us towards the fountain in the corner and ducks us behind it, just as I see Damon move into my line of vision, his arms full of Elena and red and gold satin.

"How do you…"

I sigh, tired of explaining myself. I really should rethink the whole cheerleader thing. "Stefan, my mother is the Sheriff. I know a lot more than people give me credit for." I sniff the glass, but don't detect a thing. "It's vervain, right? I heard Damon and my mother talking about it earlier. But why do you want me to drink it?"

"It will make you immune to his compulsion," Stefan explains, "and it will save you from further harm."

"But why tonight?" Something isn't adding up here. Damon had me stake out the whereabouts of the amulet, but then it was as if he changed his plan when he told me he needed me to do something for him. Now Stefan is trying to get me to drink vervain to deceive his brother and I'm finding it very hard to determine who the bad guy is in this scenario.

I pause with the glass halfway to my lips. "Who said I want to be saved?" But I drink it anyway, because there's only one way out of this night.

"Damon's here for something – what is it?"

I shake my head, letting the last of the bubbles dissipate on my tongue. "An amulet. I don't know what for. His plan was to steal it tonight but…"

Stefan quirks a dark brow and he looks so much like Damon that it makes me a little sick to think that I'm giving up Damon's secrets to his brother. "But what?" Stefan prods gently.

"But I think he's changing his plans. I won't know until it's too late."

Stefan nods gravely and takes my empty glass with his and leads me by the hand back inside. His jaw tightens perceptibly when he sees Damon and Elena still gliding effortlessly among the other couples on the dance floor, and even I'm jealous. He's looking at her like it's the first time and…

Stefan lunges and interrupts the two. "I'm cutting back in," he says slyly, winding Elena's hand with his and pulling her from Damon's hold.

"Methinks thoust protest too much, little brother," Damon purrs as he steps beside me again. He cradles the bourbon in his hand for a moment, and then knocks it back and hooks my elbow with his hand. "Come on, Blondie, we've got work to do."

* * *

TBC


	20. Chapter 20

_A/N: Wow. I just wrote this all tonight. It flowed right through me, friends – I'm back to finish this bitch. My Eric muse is upset I can't give him my undivided attention so he bade me finish what I started with Damon and Caroline before I came back to play with him and Sookie._

_This is the second last chapter. I'm hoping to put the last chapter up no later than this weekend, but you know Harry Potter opens tomorrow night and well…I have tix to the 11 pm showing…so that's gonna take up most of my evening. I've also just changed jobs recently and the new relaxed atmosphere makes my mind a little more agreeable these days: I'm hoping to add to Strappato e Spurgo at some point this summer, too. Only a few more months until VD is back on air and I have to finish it before I see what the CW has done with Season 3._

_And yes, the third instalment of this series is still being outlined. It will be a future fic, something I've never really attempted before, so I'm looking at it as a challenge._

_Thanks once again, and as always, if you like it, review it, leave me your favourite recipes, tell me a joke, or tell me about your day. I love randomness. Just like this last part of my author's note._

_Enjoy__!_

* * *

"I don't care how you do it – just do it!"

Stefan's eyes were desperate. In order to bring Damon down, he had to drink my blood. And the surest way for him to do that – and the least conspicuous – was to seduce him.

"And do it before he has the amulet," Stefan had added before Damon stepped in and swept me away.

This was my moment:

"Hey, what's this?" I say innocently as Damon and I pass a small doorway in the hall upstairs. Of course, I know perfectly well where that little door led: the maid's closet. It was pretty much like a janitor's closet, but instead of metal shelving and toilet cleaner, it was lined with oak wood and lavender potpourri. Mrs. Lockwood stored linens and such in there – at least, she did the last time I'd been in it. That was seven years ago at Tyler's eleventh birthday.

Damon pauses and cocks his eyebrow. "In my day, it was the maid's closet. Shall I show you what I learned when I was fourteen?"

The mere thought of his sexual education made me blush. Reaching past me, he grips the handle and turns, and lets us stumble inside.

"It was the fourth of July, and the older kids had set about playing a childish game of hide and go seek. I ran upstairs – right up those ones we just took – and burst into this room. At the time, the Lockwood's maid Sarah lived in here. She was gorgeous," Damon stops and searches my eyes with his, "with red hair and dark blue eyes." His lips pull into a smirk and I already feel the stirrings of arousal. His voice has grown quiet, soft, and his hands skim down my hips to grip the satin covering my thighs.

"She'd been sponging off after the morning's work – the first fully naked woman I'd ever seen." Almost reverent sounding, he catalogued her body from memory as his hands followed his words. "Her breasts were small and her nipples like raspberries," he rasps, sliding his thumbs over the pebbling tips of my own breasts. "And her skin smelled like wild sage and lavender, and was so smooth." His tongue whispers along my throat and I can't help the moan that slips over my lips.

My skirt is bunched at my wais and his fingertips flutter over my naked thighs, inside and out, and I curse again for not wearing underwear. He tugs at the lace tops of my stockings and hooks his fingers below, greedily touching any bit of skin he can. "And she wore stockings," he murmured conversationally, "right up to her thighs; I remember the feel of them against my cheeks." His nose glides over mine as my skin flushes hotly at his words.

"Sarah taught me," Damon continued hotly as he crouched down to his knees before me, "the fine art of eating pussy."

"Thank you, Sarah," I chuckle, sliding my fingers into Damon's hair. I imagine him at fourteen, what he must have been like: a charmer and a rogue like he was now, beautiful in his youth with fine porcelain skin and hair like a raven's wing, and chips of burning blue ice for eyes.

"You can thank me later," Damon murmurs before plunging his tongue inside.

I see stars. He rolls his tongue in and out and grasps my clit between his thumb and forefinger and jills it gently. The tip of his tongue slips out, swipes at the hard bundle of nerves, and then he dives back down. A few more swift strokes later I burst on his tongue, gasping breathlessly as his moans meet mine.

When I am no longer quaking I wince and whine at the bite of wooden shelves in my back. One fist is still clenched in Damon's hair and the other crushes Mrs. Lockwood's claret coloured 400 thread count sheets. He hums against my thigh and I glanced down my body at him, warming at the light in his eyes and the smirk pressed against me. "Nobody cums like you, Caroline," he sighs. Before he stands he places another gentle kiss on the inside of my shaking knee.

He doesn't bite me. My hand lands on his arm as he straightens my skirt. "Aren't you going to…you know?"

Damon smiles gently and shakes his head. "Can't risk having my best girl flat on her ass. We've got work to do." He tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear, his hand lingering on my cheek. "Like I said…you can thank me later."

* * *

_If we pull this off, I'll probably be thanking her again. I tug her out of the closet and move her in front of the door of the upper parlour. __"Stand here and keep an eye open." My fingers tighten on Caroline's shoulders, skimming the silk ties of her gown, stroking the skin. Her pupils dilate and I hear her heart thrum a little faster. Smirking, I swipe my thumb over her bottom lip and then move inside.._

"_Keep an eye open for what?" She mutters back, arching one eyebrow at me._

_She does tend to have her blonde moments. Heaving a sigh, I roll my eyes and nod to the staircase that leads back down to the party. "For whatever comes up the stairs," I hiss. "Carol Lockwood, your mom, or that skulking Lockwood kid – what's his name again? Terry? Tyson?"_

"_Tyler," Caroline snaps back._

_Of course I know his name is Tyler, but I don't want her to think I give a fuck. "Whatever," I reply. "Just…" and I wave off any other inquiry with my hands. "Don't move."_

_She sighs back. "Fine."_

_The chest is right where she said it would be and I slip in and out of shadows, fiddling with the catch and sliding open the ancient wooden drawer. I set that aside, not interested in the jewelled combs there. Instead, I run my fingers along the inside of the drawer casing and smile when I feel the small leather pouch I stashed there one hundred and fifty years earlier. Time does not disappoint in some cases. It's heavy; the amulet is within and I can practically feel it burning into my skin._

"_Damon!" Caroline suddenly hisses. Then she steps away from the door._

* * *

"Tyler!" I exclaim, perhaps a little too loudly. "Hey, there you are!" I make a beeline for him, hoping to give Damon enough time to get in and out with whatever he was looking for.

Tyler lifts a dark brow and purses his lips. "You were looking for me?" He sounds a little surprised but then he notices that I am alone. His grin splits his face. "Finally ditched the douche bag, hey?" He stands one step below me, making us the same height.

"Whatever, he was boring me," I sigh, batting my eyelashes for good measure. I think I hear Damon curse at my response and Tyler's eyes flicker towards the parlour door.

"Are the lights out?" he frowns and moves past me.

"Umm, yeah, it looks that way – I was just up here this morning and they were fine," I explain lamely. Then I follow Tyler into the darkened parlour. I hear him flick the light switch back and forth before uttering a befuddled sound.

"Hmm. That's weird. I should probably tell my mom – she'll freak if the guests can't see all of these treasures on display." He turns and runs into me, and I can't tell if the movement is deliberate or not.

Then something cold and hard slides between my breasts and the icy touch of Damon's lips are at my ear. "Downstairs. Twenty minutes," his shadow whispers.

"Did you hear something?" Tyler calls out into the darkness. His hand falls to my arm and he leads us back into the hallway. "Old house," he shrugs. "Come on, I've got to tell my mother about the lights. That will get her away from the bar – I could use another drink."

"I have to pee!" I announce. I wince at the cheery note and mentally smack my forehead.

Tyler merely gives me a puzzled look before nodding slowly, as if placating a mental patient. "Uh…sure. Bathrooms are this way." He drops me off at the designated ladies' room and I barrel through the door, not even noticing the way I almost run over Amber Fell.

I make my way to the powder area and brace my hands on the marble counter before leaning in towards the mirror. I'm so close to the glass that I fog it up when I exhale, and I close my eyes while inhaling deeply. "Get it together," I mutter.

"Too much champagne?"

My eyes snap open and I yelp, jerking back from the mirror, only to find that Elena's reflection has joined mine. "Yes!" I gasp, placing a hand over my chest. My fingers trace the outline of something hard nestled underneath my left breast and a frown flickers across my face.

"Hey, are you okay?" Elena asks as she eyes me. Her hands are buried in her clutch, probably looking for more lip gloss.

"Fine," I shrug. "Just too much champagne, like you said."

"Yeah, well your mother is here, don't forget."

I snort and notice that she's focused on the fingers of my hand where they are still stroking the outline of the amulet – there's no other explanation for the thing hidden under my breast – and I quickly snatch my hand away like I was burned. Then I start to fiddle with my hair.

"You've been acting really strange lately. I mean, more so than usual. Is everything okay with you and Damon?" she pries a little deeper.

"Couldn't be better," I shrug cheerily. I turn my head and tuck my hair behind my ear and that's when I notice it – and so does Elena: two perfect puncture marks, the calling card of Damon Salvatore, put there last night as a goodnight kiss.

"Holy hell, Caroline that is a _major_ hickey…" she trails off. "Love bite…" and then her hands are in my hair, pulling it aside as she yanks at the ties of my dress. "Jesus, Care, did Damon _bite_ you? What kind of kinky shit are you into?"

I shrug her off and square my shoulders, pulling my hair back along my neck. If she only knew…I narrow my eyes at her in the mirror. "It's none of your business," I growl.

Elena's dark eyes widen. "Like _hell_ it _isn't_! Caroline, he's hurting you – that's not a relationship…"

"Jesus _Christ_, Elena, back off!" I turn to face her and feel the blood flooding my veins. "Not everyone has a candy floss romance like you and Saint Stefan!" I snatch my purse from the counter and inside I crow at the way the tiny brunette takes a step back at my outburst. I brush past her. I don't spare her another glance. Outside of the bathroom the party continues, eating, drinking, dancing. I head straight for the bar.

"Are you okay?"

I whirled around on Tyler and glared at him. "I'll be okay if everyone stops fucking asking me that every time they see me!" I hiss.

He blinks, taken aback by my outburst. Swiftly glancing left to right to check for eavesdroppers, he leans in so far that my back presses into the bar. He holds my gaze, breathing gently, and a low, thrumming growl – too canine to be classified as _purring_ – trembles in his throat. A moment later he is silent, and he inhales deeply. That hot black gaze of his sweeps down to my throat and I feel Damon's mark burning beneath the strap of my dress. Then his eyes are back on mine and he towers over me, pushing his chest into mine as his hands shackle my wrists to my sides. "You've been with a vampire."

My heart thuds in my ears. I want to shake my head but his gaze is too heavy; I am pinned there and I am helpless. I feel unsettled and excited all at once, leaving me a little queasy. My eyes flutter closed and the heat of him vanishes, followed by a scuffle of shoes on the parquet floor of the ballroom. ""Back off, blood sucker," I hear Tyler grunt.

Dazedly I focus on them and then move to break them up. A crowd is beginning to gather. As I step towards them, I notice that Damon is easily holding Tyler at bay by grasping his suit jacket with both hands. Nose to nose, Damon scowls into Tyler's smug black gaze and then forces his will upon him.

* * *

_The fucking prick was all over her – pawing at her, cornering her, clearly trying to take what was mine. If he tried to cop a feel he'd run into the amulet and there was no way I could compel and entire Founder'__s Party._

_Caroline falters back against the bar, clearly feeling the effects of too much champagne and a gushing orgasm in the upstairs closet. Beneath my hand his bicep is hard, unnervingly so, and it takes all of my strength to turn him around. When my nose is practically pressed against his, I viciously tear into the weave of his mind and sever threads._

"_You know __**nothing**__ about me. You have no knowledge of me, or my brother, or my kind. You know absolutely nothing about anything remotely supernatural." I smell Caroline approach and as an afterthought I add, "and forget about fucking Caroline. She's __**mine**__."_

_The word unnerves me even as I speak it, but then its out there and I feel Caroline's heavy blue stare on me. I don't bother looking her way; let her think what she wants about the claim. I've made it, but that doesn't mean I have to keep her with me forever. She'll be mine until the day she dies._

_The kid's eyes are black. Not dark brown, but __**black**__, and they burn with an intensity that makes me take notice. He doesn't scare me – only intrigues me._

* * *

"She's yours," Tyler replies.

Coming from him it seems so real. Because I always kinda thought that someday I'd be his. Seeing as how I'm probably going to die tonight, I guess it's okay to admit it.

Holy shit. I'm gonna die tonight.

Stefan appears beside me and he grasps Tyler's shoulder, pulling him back from Damon. "Take it easy." Flashing an easy smile to onlookers, he nods and mutters there's no problem here. No problem at all.

Just a misunderstanding.

I'm gonna die tonight.

Stefan touches the back of my hand with his, pressing in it towards the doors leading into the gardens. The light is dim back there: another one of Carol Lockwood's infamous shadow mazes, alight with nothing more than actual chandeliers draped in the overhanging oak boughs.

"Go," Stefan breathes.

I move as fast as Damon can. At least, that's what it feels like, and my hand clasps Damon's as I step between him and Tyler. "Come on," I mutter.

Damon smirks at Tyler and lets go of his suit with a little shove. "My mistake," Damon spits. "Little prick."

Tyler lunges but stops short at his name on his father's lips. Damon chuckles as he's brought to heel and I tug at the vampire's hand. "Let's go," I say rather sweetly.

I don't dare look behind me as I step out of the house and into the night. The fog is rolling in off of the river. I tell myself that I'm placing my trust in the vampire brother of the vampire that I'm wandering off with into the dark of night.

I'm gonna die tonight.

* * *

TBC


End file.
